Wyrda
by Wutus
Summary: This is my continuation of Christopher Paolini's amazing series, The Inheritance Cycle. Wyrda (Fate) picks up some months after the end of Inheritance, book 4 of the Cycle. Please remember, I do not own any of the original ideas this story is based on. I am merely using Mr. Paolini's ideas and introducing my own imagination into the world he so cleverly created. Please enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Inheritance Fan Fiction – After Book 4

Chapter 1 – Homeward Bound

Eragon sat cross-legged by the fire, Saphira curled up beside him. He lay back and rested against her warm belly. The fire wasn't so much for warmth – Saphira could keep him warm enough – but more for his spirits. Whenever he was out in the wilderness or even in his quarters at the new Home of the Riders, nothing could lift his spirits more than a nice, roaring fire.

For the ninth time in an hour, he lifted his eyes to the horizon to view the exact spot where the ship had disappeared. He had watched intently as first the hull of the ship and then, lastly, the sails had vanished.

_Do you still think this is a good idea?_ He asked Saphira.

Saphira yawned widely, her barbed tongue curling at the tip like a cat's.

_It must be done._ She paused briefly and turned her monstrous head to look at him with her great sapphire-blue eye. She studied him a moment longer and said,

_You could have gone with them, you know?_

Eragon was not surprised that she knew what was bothering him. Their mental link that bonded them was more intimate and close than any lover's, closer than even family and they could hide nothing from each other.

_You heard Angela's fortune telling in Teirm. I can never return._

_Eragon, you know as well as I do that just because she saw something doesn't mean it has to come true. You remember Oromis' lessons, yes? And what Arya told you about the elf, Maerzadi? What she saw was but one possible outcome. No one can tell the future for it doesn't exist. There is only now._

Eragon shrugged. _What if she saw that I would try to come back and, if I did, I wouldn't make it?_

Saphira chuckled, a low, grumbling sound that reminded Eragon of rolling thunder. _Same answer, I think._

Eragon banked the fire for the night and huddled close to Saphira's belly as she curled her great neck and rested her head on the ground next to him. With one hand, he reached out and stroked a spot on her scaly jaw. His fingernail produced a grating sound on the soft, almost leathery scales. She hummed, deep in her chest, and the air around them began to vibrate. He smiled.

_Maybe…but I would rather not risk it unless it is absolutely necessary._

_Little one._ She snaked out her tongue and gently licked his elbow. Eragon tucked his knees close to his chest in the fetal position and rested his head on his pack. He tucked the blanket close and closed his eyes, almost immediately falling into his waking dreams.

Early the next morning, Eragon and Saphira returned to their new home. The week before, after having been gone for nearly six full months and spending three of those months searching for the perfect place to set up home, Blodhgarm had suggested sending an envoy back to Alagaesia to inform the leaders of all of the races where they were and that they were safe. It would be necessary in the event the new eggs hatched for their new Riders and needed training. They had all met together, along with the sane Eldunari, and had all come to an agreement. Eragon, initially, was opposed to it. After all, the reason they had left Alagaesia was for the safety of the remaining eggs and Eldunari. If they were going to tell everyone where they had gone, that would have defeated the whole purpose of leaving in the first place. Eventually, after deciding to tell only the leaders of the races and forcing them to swear secrecy in the ancient language before being told anything, Eragon consented. They had decided to send half of the Elves back and the remaining half, along with Eragon and Saphira, would stay behind and continue the construction. Eragon had insisted on following Blodhgarm, who would be leading the group back, to the launch site. During their travels, the two had become fast friends, almost mimicking the way Eragon and Murtagh had become friends. Eragon also knew that Blodhgarm would most likely visit his own Queen, Arya, first and he could only trust Blodhgarm to deliver a letter for him in secret without reading it himself.

Saphira had warned him about sending Arya the letter, given how things had ended, but he couldn't resist. He knew as well as Arya that the timing just was not right and that, maybe, she had been right from the beginning when she said it just couldn't work out between them. However, that did not mean he did not still care for her. He considered her one of his closest and most trusted friends and he thought she felt the same way about him, as evidenced by their exchange of the most treasured and respected gift a living person could entrust to another; their true names. To know one's true name gave you complete control over that person. So, he reasoned, it would have been rude to not send her a letter telling her of his travels and inquiring after her well-being.

As they approached the construction site from the air, Eragon noticed that, despite sending away half of the elves back to Alagaesia, they made significant progress in building their new homes. With the help of the Eldunari's strength, they had sung beautiful buildings out of the trees, reminiscent of Ellesmera. The main building was a two story complex made by dozens of trees together. Two of the elves, Hasan and Lian, worked to build beautiful bridges that would span from one public building to the next. When finished, it would be possible to move from one of the main buildings to the next without having to set foot on the ground. The largest of those buildings would be used for storing and working with the Eldunari and personal living quarters. In the center of the camp sat a massive tree. This tree reminded the Elves of the Menoa tree in Ellesmera and that was what had drawn them to this place. As Eragon and Saphira landed in a puff of dirt and dust, the Elves hurried out and greeted them, touching their first two fingers to their lips and bowing, initiating the traditional Elven greeting with them both.

When the niceties were finished Nala, one of the Elves who had fought with them when Eragon had confronted, and killed, King Galbatorix, rushed forward and said in the ancient language, "Follow us, Rider Eragon. Follow us, Saphira Brightscales. We have something you needs must see!"

Eragon cocked his head slightly, puzzled, but before he could say anything, the Elves surrounded him and ushered him forward.

They led him to the base of the large tree and Eragon spotted a small doorway at the base; a doorway he could not remember being there when he and Saphira had left a few days prior. Before he could point it out to Saphira, the Elves forced him through the doorway and up the stairs that had been grown out of the trunk. It seemed eerily familiar to Eragon…

At the top of the stairs was another doorway which twisted beautifully out of the wood and was decorated with pictures. Upon closer inspection, Eragon noticed that they were small murals of all the important events in his life – the forest clearing where he had found Saphira's egg, killing Durza in Farthen Dur, his transformation at the Agaeti Blodhren, forging his sword, Brisingr, with Rhunon, killing Galbatorix in Uru'baen and, right at the top over the center of the doorway, the ceremony where they had altered the spell binding Riders and Dragons to include all the races of Alagaesia.

Eragon stood, dumbstruck. He looked from one Elf to the next and twisted his hand over his sternum in a gesture of fealty and respect and said, "Thank you. This is incredible!"

Nala said, "There is more, Eragon. Look."

In front of them, the doorway that had appeared solid at first was swinging inward on invisible hinges. Awed, Eragon stepped forward and entered the room. Before him was a beautiful living space, nearly as large as the one that had been his home in Ellesmera. The same large, open window along the wall, large enough for Saphira – or even possibly Glaedr when he was still alive – to enter through, the same large bowl in the floor with padding where Saphira could sleep in comfort and a very large, soft bed, the frame of which had been sung out of the tree. To his left, there was a stairwell and Eragon suspected it led to a study. As he looked around, Nala said, "It was customary for the leader of the Riders to have their own personal living quarters. As the first of the new Order and in recognition of all you have achieved in your short time as such, you are the rightful heir to that title and it is only right you receive the same."

Eragon could hardly contain himself. He thanked each of the Elves individually for all they had done for him and, as Saphira landed lightly in the large open window, the Elves departed to allow Eragon and Saphira to enjoy their new living space and rest.

_Amazing, isn't it Saphira?_ He said in wonder, removing the saddle from her back.

_Yes, it is beautiful._ she replied.

_I wish I knew what I could do to thank them. This must have taken enormous effort to complete in such a short amount of time._

Saphira studied their surrounding and snorted, releasing a puff of smoke,

I_t is almost like we never left. I think that is their real gift to you._

Eragon nodded absentmindedly as he ascended the stairs into the study. True to the trend, the room was almost identical to the one in Ellesmera, right down to the sheet that spanned the opening to shield from the elements. He approached the elegant desk and ran a finger over the etched markings. The detail was exquisite; an image of Roran and Katrina, Kings Orik and Orrin, and Queens Nasuada and Arya were most prominent. Eragon's eyes welled up upon seeing Roran and Katrina's face and, as his gaze roved over the pictures, he lingered upon the image of Arya most of all. The pictures were so vivid so as to seem alive; so much so that Eragon wondered if they had made a fairth within the wood, though he didn't know if that was possible.

_Saphira, look._ He said, and showed her pictures with his mind of all he saw.

She was just as awestruck as he was. _It seems the Elves have outdone themselves._

_Yes, this is incredible._

Eragon ran his fingers over the images once more before descending the stairs, finding Saphia curled up upon her dais. He went to edge of the bed and sat down. Suddenly tired from his roiling emotions, he lay back and closed his eyes, slowing his breathing and shrugging off all thoughts until he attained a state of being not unlike when he meditate. Before long he entered the trance-like state of his waking dreams as the sun began to set and the day came to an end.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Instructions

The following weeks were the most peaceful Eragon could remember, especially since Saphira had hatched for him. The morning was spent either sparring with the elves or performing the rimgar, followed by an hour of meditation. Then, the bulk of the day was spent continuing work on their new home, now dubbed "Du Deloi Dramr", loosely translated to "Dream of the Earth", an homage to the beautiful land they had found; it really was like a dream. Then, in the evenings, they were free to do as they wished. Given the alien nature of the land and their natural curiosity, this time was mostly spent exploring. So far they had found dozens of strange creatures and foreign plant life, including a curious looking crab-like insect with tiny claws and sharp pincers and a dark purple plant, so dark it was very nearly black, that oozed a lavender colored sap when they cut into the stem. All of these things were studied very closely and catalogued scrupulously so their potential benefits, or conversely harmful qualities, could be properly assessed.

It was during this time, nearly a full six weeks after Blodhgarm's departure, that Eragon stumbled upon a beautiful lake, surrounded by white-capped mountains. The water was so clear and clean, it perfectly mirrored the mountains so it was impossible to tell where the water ended and the earth began. Eragon stood admiring the beauty until he felt Saphira's mind press against his own.

_Eragon, what do you see?_

He sent her a mental image of the lake and said, _This is the perfect place._

_Perfect place for what, Little One?_

_To store the eldunari. It is private and well hidden but not too far from where we will be staying._

_Where will we keep them and how will we shelter them from the elements?_

_Remember the Vault of Souls on Vroengard? We could sing a chamber out of the stone surrounding the lake and overlooking the landscape. A perfect, peaceful resting place._

Saphira did not respond and, after a minute, Eragon ventured, _Saphira?_

_I am here. The Elves have news, you should return_.

Excitement blossomed within him. _Blodhgarm? They couldn't possibly have made it to Alagaesia already?_

_They wish to tell you so I will let them. Come, Little One._

Eragon left the lake and returned to the village, passing by the recently completed buildings and stopping in the main courtyard, directly under the large tree, where he found Nala and Lárasarnë, Lára for short, talking with Saphira, poring over a piece of parchment.

"Shadeslayer," Nala breathed, bowing, "Blodhgarm sends a message." She extended her hand and Eragon took the parchment. It took a moment for the graceful, flowing script to come into focus but, when it did, Eragon read it through quickly. It said,

Kvetha Fricai,

The journey goes swiftly and we are halfway home. It would seem Arya Drötning has sent elven magicians to Ilirea, for they have just contacted us. They sensed us during their meditations and Queen Nasuada has dispatched an honor guard to our landing site. Representatives from each race will be there as well. They refused to give us much more information in such a manner, as did I, preferring instead to inform each other in person, but it also appears that all is not well in Alagaesia. I will reserve judgement until I receive all the facts but, if the threat is serious enough, I think it wise to assist in resolving the issue. I will contact you again when I learn more.

May good fortune rule over you Peace live in your heart And the stars watch over you

Blodhgarm

Eragon read and re-read the letter several times until he had it memorized.

Lára and Nala remained silent but Saphira said, _I think this is what you have been waiting for. Events have conspired to bring us back to Alagaesia; to bring us all home._

Eragon did not answer her. Several scenarios played out through his head, each more dangerous and unlikely as the next. Galbatorix was, most certainly, dead so it could not be him. Could it be the Urgals? Was there some unknown entity in Alagaesia that had lain dormant during the Riders' and, subsequently, Galbatorix's reigns? What if, by killing one monster they had unleashed another?

Eragon's first instinct was to leave immediately, his desire to protect those he had left behind was overwhelming. But he pushed that away, wrestling it down until his desire was no more.

Logic, he thought. Oromis' lessons had concerned using his mind to dictate his actions. Think things through so that the best course of action could be decided rationally and without emotion.

"Argetlam, what shall we do?" Lára asked. The other remaining elves had gathered around them by now and many had either read the letter from Blodhgarm, or had been informed by their companions. They all watched him intently.

"We wait." He said. "We cannot act until we are sure of the problem plaguing Alagaesia."

"But we must help them, Shur'tugal." interjected Haleth.

Eragon calmly said, "The letter did not say it was an enemy that threatened our friends. It merely said 'all is not well'. It could be any number of things. It is not an easy task, rebuilding after so much war and devastation. We all knew the risks and problems overthrowing Galbatorix would cause once he was dethroned."

"I agree with Eragon." said Nala, throwing him a small smile. "We came here for the safety of the dragon eggs and the Eldunarí. Unless we hear that Alagaesia is mortally threatened, we should stay; we have our own responsibilities here to attend."

The rest of the elves nodded in agreement and Eragon felt warm relief flood through him. He did not relish a situation where they would all be divided on an issue. He would be outnumbered if they had to submit to a vote and his only true friend among them, Blodhgarm, was not there to back him. It did seem Nala was in his corner though he could not be entirely certain; perhaps it was only in this issue they happened to agree.

The group dispersed, melding into the growing shadows as the sun began to set behind them, throwing the world into dusk. Nala was the last to leave, studying him with her hazel colored eyes and still smiling. She turned to walk away and then said, with her back to him, "Do not worry overmuch, Eragon-elda. We know you will do what is best for us all when the time comes and we will do as you wish."

Eragon felt a little of his trepidations ease at her words. "Eka elrun ono, Nala Svit-kona." And then she was gone.

_Saphira, shall we fly together before turning in for the night?_

_We shall, Little One._

Eragon leapt onto her back and she reared on her hind legs, extending her wings. He could feel her muscles and tendons coil and bunch underneath him as she launched herself into the air, driving her wings down. He held onto her tightly as she gained altitude, her massive wings causing the air around them to thrum. Once she achieved a comfortable height and began to glide on the thermals, he leaned back and relaxed.

_I am proud of you, Eragon. You have grown wise in a short time._ Her approval washed over him through their mental link.

_I know I made the right decision but I feel the same as Haleth. Maybe we should have left immediately._

_Eragon, leaving now wouldn't help them. Nala is right; we should see to the Eldunarí and the eggs first. Then we can help our friends._

_Then, tomorrow, I shall begin work on the cavern for the eggs and Eldunarí. That way, when the time comes to leave, we can do so knowing we have done as much as we could possibly do for them in the time we had._

_I shall help you._

She said, a tone of finality in her voice.

Together, they flew until the night was several hours old, just enjoying each other's company.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Fate

Finally, exhausted, Eragon allowed his shoulders to hunch and he let out an exasperated sigh. It had taken several consecutive days of singing in the ancient language for the cavern to be completed. He, Nala, Lára, Haleth, Elbeth, Mírame and Arnos sang the words and Saphira lent her vast stores of energy. Their voices melded together in a sweet melody that echoed over the lake, hanging in the air long after they should have been lost. The lot of them stood back to admire the results; alcoves and tiered shelves layered the walls at regular intervals. It was in there that the eggs and those Eldunarí who wished to remain inside would be placed. Great pillars, nearly fifteen paces across, supported the massive weight from above. In the back stood a throne awaiting the arrival of Cuaroc, the purple Eldunarí-powered humanoid guardian who watched over the eggs during the centuries they spent in the Vault of Souls.

Directly across from the throne, reminiscent of the veiled opening that hid the entrance to the Ra'zac den on Helgrind, was a large window that overlooked the lake and, many leagues in the distance, the glittering ocean was barely visible, only as a dark smudge. It was a beautiful view that would be lost on the Eldunarí, as they had no physical means, but they could use their minds to communicate with each other and the minds of the animal life and they could see through their eyes, as well as the Elves in Du Deloi Dramr. They guarded the large window with wards that hid it from view from the outside, as well as powerful enchantments to deter visitors and animals from entering the cavern. A spiral staircase grown out of the rock led to the outside, where several more enchantments were laid. For the magic, Eragon invoked the true name of the Ancient Language, being sure to utter the enchantments that prevented any eavesdroppers from remembering the name afterwards; he trusted the Elves, as he knew they trusted him, but he had promised to keep the name a secret and he vehemently adhered to that promise. Also, he reasoned, just because they had not found proof of inhabitation in the new land, did not mean there were no humans, elves, dwarves, urgals or some other sentient, intelligent race that may, or may not, be able to use magic. However, it didn't hurt to be safe.

By unanimous consent, the group split up then to get food and rest; ferrying the eggs and Eldunarí to the cavern would wait until the next day. Eragon flew on Saphira's back while the Elves ran below her, their lithe, athletic forms speeding over the ground, reminding Eragon of the Feldûnost's superior agility while running across the dangerous terrain of the Beor Mountains. Homesickness suddenly welled up inside of him, threatening to blot out his reason and send him running home to his friends and family.

_Little One,_ Saphira cooed, soothing him with her mind.

_I knew it would be tough to be away from them like this but this is bordering on torture. My heart feels broken and the only thing I think can mend it is being with them, seeing them again._

Saphira flew on in silence for a moment before saying, _Seeing them again, only to have to leave once more, would be doubly devastating. _

_I know,_ he replied, _I will cross that emotional bridge when, or if, it comes to pass. Going back may not be necessary if-_

At that moment, a consciousness touched his thoughts; a consciousness he recognized as Valdr. The old dragon had never really spoken to them at length, preferring instead to use images to convey his meaning; the most he had ever said to them, using words, was when Eragon had a desire to try and resurrect Brom, his father, from the dead, saying, "Leave the dead to the Earth. They are not for us."

Thus it was quite a shock when he said, _They have returned and I fear Alagaesia is in danger. You are needed, Younglings._

The old dragon refused to say more, retreating within himself and ignoring their probing questions, taking no more notice of them than the Menoa Tree did all those months ago. It quickly became clear that Valdr's words were not for them alone as all of the Elves, their voices clamoring together in a chorus of worried words and confusion, contacted him with their minds. The onset of thoughts and feelings was too much for him so, invoking his skill with gramarye, he let the power suffuse his voice and shouted, both with his voice and his mind, _Enough!_

All activity ceased at once, leaving Eragon able to think clearly once more. He was not sure if it was indeed proof positive of a threat in Alagaesia, as Valdr refused to elaborate on his cryptic message, but it was the only information he had to work with.

_Saphira? What do you think?_

_I think we should heed Valdr's warning. Whether or not he is right is irrelevant; Blodhgarm's message coupled with Valdr's words presents a strong case. I think you and I need to return to Alagaesia._

Eragon held tightly as Saphira descended in a great sweeping spiral, like a leaf falling from a tree. She landed in the center courtyard where the Elves had gathered, eager to hear Eragon's verdict. He dismounted hurriedly, the soles of his boots producing a rather loud crunch in the dirt and kicking up a little puff of dust. He watched the motes dance in the air, clearly highlighting the beams of light from the setting sun, swirling around his legs and then settling once more to lie inert on the ground. The irony was not lost on him. _Everything cycles back from whence it came; nothing can escape the vagaries of fate._

"Shadeslayer? Argetlam?" came a murmured, questing probe. Nala quietly approached and gently lay a soft hand on Eragon's arm. As always surprised him since his transformation at the Agaeti Blodhren, his senses were sharp enough to pick up the heat of Nala's skin, even through his shirt. It was not unpleasant and a sudden lurch in his stomach alerted him to feelings he had not known where present before; feelings painfully reminiscent of Arya…

"I have decided." He said. The intake of breath from his audience was audible; the anticipation was palpable. He sighed, his body language radiating defeat. "We shall return home."

* * *

A lone ship glided on gently swelling seas while oars dipped into the cold water and propelled the craft with an unrivaled speed. The ship was a feat of engineering; six decks - two below the water line - along with five masts and a raised platform for the helmsman. At the helm stood a cloaked man, eyeing his surroundings with a practiced eye. Long silver hair hung like a curtain around his face and grey eyes, sparkling with intelligence, sat above a hooked nose. His skin was pale and smooth; no traces of facial hair existed. His breath hung on the air in white clouds, only to be whisked away by the currents of wind that swirled around him. At his waist hung a graceful sword, curved slighty and tapering to a deadly point, in a beautiful wooden scabbard decorated with molded gold in the shape of a vine, twining a circuitous path from the top to the bottom and back again. On his back hung a quiver of arrows fletched with dark feathers and a dark colored bow. He stared at the horizon looking for all the world like a statue, unmoving and unflinching. Thus he stayed for over an hour until a he felt a gentle nudge in his mind.

_Is it set?_ he asked the consciousness, speaking quickly and solely in the ancient language.

_It is set. Should fortune smile upon you, you should see land by sunset tomorrow. Though the inhabitants know something is amiss, they do not yet suspect us. We have assimilated well, _came a reply, also in the ancient language.

_Good, _said the man. _I will see you tomorrow evening then. May the stars watch over you._

_May good fortune rule over you, Master._

The connection was severed and the man allowed himself a small smile. He lowered his hood and, using the back of his hand, brushed the hair out of his eyes and, in the process, revealing ears that tapered to a prominent point.

_Finally, I am returning home,_ he thought to himself before wiping all expression off of his face and returning to his stoic, passive state as the leagues melted away underneath him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - The Earl of Palancar Valley

Roran grunted, his muscles shaking from the exertion and his face dripping with perspiration.

"Just a little more lads!" Yelled Horst. The smith stood beside Roran and opposite of Albreich and Baldor as the four of them worked tirelessly to erect the main support beams in what would become the new tavern. Around them, several more villagers held guide lines that would prevent the pieces from spinning or toppling over onto the workers. They had pieced together the massive beams which would be the "bones" of the structure while they lay on the ground as they had no way of lifting the beams - which each weighed several hundred pounds - on top of one another. The main supports, each as wide as a large tree trunk, had already been placed in the ground. Around this, the frame of the building was to be set and then nailed together before the walls could be built. It was this final step on which they were currently working and Roran was silently grateful that it was almost done.

_Just a little more…_he thought to himself.

Summoning what little remained of his strength, he drove his legs downward into the ground and gave a mighty yell. The final piece of the framework, with an agonizing slowness, began to move upward. Spurred on by Roran's efforts, Albreich and Baldor added their last vestiges of power and, along with Horst, they managed to get the piece of the frame perfectly perpendicular to the ground. Once the piece was set and the villagers were able to tie it off, the four men slumped to the ground. Roran panted and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, ignoring the dirt he smeared along his forehead.

"That's it for me; I'm spent." sighed Horst. "Tie it down and, for the love of the Gods, make sure it is secure. With a bit of luck we can have this place finished, or at least four walls and a roof, before the snow comes." The smith paused before asking, in a quieter voice, "You and the family are welcome to sup with us, Stronghammer. Elain has been asking about you three ever since you moved into your new manor."

"You'd think his Lordship would invite _us_ to dinner. His mansion is big enough for the lot of us!"

Baldor's jest brought about laughter from those within earshot. Roran laughed as well and accepted the invitation.

The villagers had insisted on rebuilding Carvahall in the exact same location, which proved to be more difficult than any of them had previously thought. The biggest problem was that none of them could tell exactly where the ruins lay; whoever had razed the village had done it very well and Roran suspected magic may have been involved. Only by locating a charred remnant from Horst's old house, which they knew rested on the crest of a hill not far from what had been the center of the village, were they able to estimate the rest of the layout. From there, the individual families began to separate and claim the land that had been theirs before their departure. Their first priority, and rightly so with winter moving in quickly, was to get their private homes built first. Roran had worked tirelessly to ensure the continued safety and comfort of those under his care, for he could not forget that Nasuada had made him an Earl; all of Palancar valley was now under his Lordship. His job was made slightly easier by the fact that several hundred of the Varden's warriors, many of whom had fought with Roran or had befriended the other villagers, had decided to accompany him to Carvahall. They insisted vigorously that they would build Roran's estate for him, citing it was their duty to help the hero of the Varden, and cousin to the famous Rider, Eragon Shadeslayer, who had killed the evil tyrant Galbatorix.

Deprived of the joy to build his own home, for he had not the heart to say no to them, he instead busied himself with helping others. As such, the majority of them had a roof over their heads and the rest should be set before the first snowfall of the season; none of them would truly be comfortable for many more months, possibly even years, but at least they would be able to keep themselves warm.

The men went their separate ways for the evening while Roran followed Horst, Albreich and Baldor to their new house on the hill. It lacked the creative nuances of their old house but, in time, they would attempt to achieve at least a modicum of familiarity from their old life. Roran knew, for instance, that Baldor and Albreich were working on carvings of animals that would be placed on the handrails of the staircase and the balusters were to be decorated with a delicate spiral pattern.

Roran entered the doorway last and, as he turned to close the door behind him, his vision was blurred by a cascade of auburn colored hair. _Katrina,_

He twisted in her arms and hugged her fiercely.

"How did it go with the tavern?" she asked, tightening her grip when he tried to pull away.

He chuckled to himself. "It went fine. The frame is set and, barring any setbacks, the walls should be finished before winter. How goes it here?"

Katrina released him then and shrugged, "It's tough to get much done when Ismira cries for attention so often but Elain and I have been able to finally finish the quilts and begin work on the curtains. Shouldn't be long now."

"And where is our little bundle of joy and tears this evening?" he asked, looking around.

"Sleeping. She only went down about an hour ago. We can wake her for dinner; Elain invited us."

Roran smiled, "So did Horst. Who knew being made an Earl meant so many free meals?"

Katrina smiled then kissed him once more. She then left to help Elain in the kitchen while Roran went to look in on Ismira before washing up for dinner. He tiptoed up the stairs and gently pushed the door open. There, swaddled comfortably in a crib made of gorgeous dark cedar, was his daughter. Roran could not stop the smile that pulled at his lips as he gazed at her. The fire within him that drove him to motivate the village to go to Surda, then to rescue Katrina and then serve the Varden was now directed solely at protecting and loving Ismira. He quietly approached the crib and laid a hand softly on her back. She make a slight noise but did not wake. He leaned down and kissed her on her cheek before stalking out of the room and closing the door as gently as he could.

Dinner was a rather subdued affair; they were all downright exhausted with many more long days ahead of them. Before long, after much yawning and stretching, Elain said, "You three should just stay here tonight. You have to come right back into town first thing in the morning to continue on with the work for the village anyway. Plus, it's getting far too cold to be taking Ismira out so late at night." Her voice was almost pleading. Roran suspected she enjoyed having Katrina around during the day; another female to talk to.

Roran was about to deny the offer as respectfully as he could but Katrina interjected, "Oh Elain that would be lovely! Thank you!"

Horst must have seen the look on his face because before Roran could say anything, the smith nudged him with his elbow and muttered, "Let it be, boy. It's done." Across the table Albreich and Baldor laughed to themselves, able to disguise the mirth as coughing.

Pushing away his initial reluctance, Roran was silently grateful for the hospitality – he _was_ exhausted – and resolved to repay Horst and his family in some way. An idea began to form in is mind though he kept it to himself, unwilling to bring about hope and expectations only to discover it wasn't possible. He made a mental note to consult with Connor, the lone magician who had been sent by Nasuada to help ensure Carvahall's continued safety. Roran had only agreed to the appointment of Connor because, like Nasuada, he realized that magic was the only way to combat magic. Also, he reasoned, it would be useful if for no other reason than for ease of communication.

"Thank you. Your kindness is most appreciated." Roran said. Horst and Elain beamed in response.

The children were put to bed soon after, Ismira's crib being moved into Hope's room. Afterward, the adults lounged about, most of them with a tankard of ale or a glass of wine, too tired to do much but relax. Roran sat in a plush leather chair, Katrina sat on the floor between his legs, her head resting on his knee. They talked and planned their next few days before the conversation dissolved and eyelids began to prove too heavy to keep open. Horst and Elain soon retired for the night followed closely by Albreich and Baldor. Roran remained seated only because he was so comfortable, and so tired, he did not have the energy to move. It was like his limbs were stuck in a thick mud; the more he tried to move the more stuck he became. He listened to Katrina's breathing, a soft cadence that made him smile. Summoning his willpower, he gently shook her awake. "Come on, my sweet. Let's go to bed."

She groaned and gave him a look of feigned anger. Unable to resist, he said, "Come on. Wake up and go to sleep."

He laughed heartily as she slapped him playfully about the legs and arms, laughing as well despite herself. Together, they rose and walked up the stairs and into the guest room. Roran lay down on his back and, almost immediately, felt himself falling into blackness. He felt a blanket being played out around him and the soft form of his love press up against his right side. Her lips brushed his and she lay her head on his shoulder. He smiled. _Katrina._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Enemies

The next evening, after another long day of working, Roran returned to his new estate. He had chosen, after much debate, to relocate closer to Carvahall. As Earl, he couldn't very well return to his farm, ten miles from the village, nor could he return to his old life as a farmer. Instead, he chose a rather large area bordering the river in which to build his estate and his new life. He had also decided to build on both sides of the river and then enclose the whole area with a massive stone wall. In this, he had stolen the idea from Aroughs. Not only would his estate be large enough to house the entire population of Carvahall behind the walls in the event of an attack but they would have an endless supply of water. He wanted to make the tiny village of Carvahall into a bustling city. Already, they had received pleas and requests to take in villagers from several smaller villages in Palancar Valley. Roran guessed his newfound fame had something to do with it but, also, the reputation he had built with his fellow villagers. They had proven effective in combat and, in doing so, proved they could, and would, protect their own.

Katrina rode in a wagon holding Ismira who had, thankfully, fallen asleep along the way from Horst' , who chose to walk alongside the horses, pulled on the reigns and drove the wagon as close to the new house as he could, carefully skirting the construction still underway. Going to the side of the wagon, he reached up and relieved Katrina of her precious burden while she lowered herself to the ground. Several voices rang out from behind him, shouting, "Hail, Stronghammer!"

With a lurch, Ismira awoke and began bawling. Roran winced tried to soothe her but to no avail.

"Give her here." Katrina said.

Handing over the bundle of blankets, Roran muttered, "Sorry. I'll have a word with them about shouting around the baby."

Katrina shrugged it off and carried the crying babe into the house. Roran stood back and admired the changes to his home since he had been in the village. The main body of the house, which was to be three stories tall when completed and nearly one hundred feet long, was a glorious monument and a brilliant statement to the skill of the men who worked on it, their work inspired somewhat by the Elves' work in Ilirea. The eaves, doorways and windows were all decorated and carved with exquisite skill, depicting snarling gargoyles, roaring dragons or flying eagles. All around the house, the framework for the walls were being laid. Roran closed his eyes and imagined the finished product, twenty-foot stone walls and a large double gate with portcullis. He entered the main house and passed a number of warriors and servants, all of whom stopped to bow to him, murmuring, "Stronghammer!" or "My Lord!"

_I will never get used to that,_ he thought to himself.

He politely smiled and greeted those he passed until he got to his room. There, he saw Katrina seated on the edge of the bed; the silence told him that Ismira had calmed down. She held a finger to her lips as he approached. He placed an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him, her head resting on his hip. Ismira looked at them with a curious expression and, when Roran smiled at her, she laughed and shouted, "Gah!"

Katrina looked up at him and asked, "Will you watch her for a bit? I'd like to bathe before turning in."

"Of course." Roran answered, taking her place on the bed and distracting Ismira by wiggling his fingers in front of her face. With an alarming amount of dexterity for a toddler, she grabbed one of them, his pointer finger, and tried to chew on it.

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door. Once again, Ismira shouted, "Gah!" Roran chuckled and said loudly, "You heard the lady, Enter!"

The door opened slowly and a man poked his head recognized him as Connor, the magician. "Stronghammer, sir? I'm sorry to bother you; I know you only just returned home but I have received a message from Nasuada."

Roran straightened. "What is it? Is all well?"

Connor glanced at Katrina. "My Lord, I was instructed to give the news to you and to you alone."

Roran shook his head, "Anything you have to say can be said in front of her."

Connor sighed and acquiesced. "Very well, sir." The magician paused and appeared to be thinking how best to relay his message. Finally, he said, "Nasuada says this must remain a secret; the fewer who know about this the better. Nasuada fears there is something sinister happening in Alagaesia. Disappearances of both key people and goods are occurring throughout the major cities, including Ilirea. King Orrin's personal assistant, Trianna, the sorceress from Du VrangrGata, Nasuada's handmaiden Farica, Jeod Longshanks and his wife, and a handful of UrgalChieftans, including Nar Gharzvog, to name but a few."

"But why them?" Katrina asked, clearly appalled.

"Because," said Roran with growing apprehension, "They are all in positions of relative power and know things few others know. It's almost like…" He couldn't finish the sentence. However, Connor did.

"It's almost like someone is planning to make a move for power. And the only one strong enough to take on the entire continent of Alagaesia would be Galbatorix."

Katrina looked at Roran with complete shock on her face. "You don't think…"

"No." Roran said quickly. "Galbatorix is definitely dead. I suppose it is possible any remaining supporters of his are conspiring but that seems equally far-fetched. For the first time in history, all the races of Alagaesia are united. To declare war on one is to declare war on all; that would be madness. No, this is something else though what exactly I have no idea."

Connor cleared his throat and said, "Nasuada is of the same mind. As is, it seems, the Elves, Dwarves and Urgals. Even so, while contemplating how best to handle the situation, it seems contact was made between the Elves in Ilirea with Queen Nasuada and Blodhgarm, the wolf-elf who accompanied Eragon to points unkown, some weeks ago."

Roran sat bolt upright, suddenly excited, "And what of Eragon?"

"It seems that, upon learning of our suspicions, Eragon has decided to come home."

Katrina gasped again, this time though, with a smile. "You mean…"

"Yes. Even as we speak, Eragon is returning to Alagaesia."

Roran could not contain a smile, despite the ominous tidings. Katrina knelt beside Ismira who began to fuss because she was being ignored.

"You hear that, Ismira? Uncle Eragon is coming home."

"Gah!"

* * *

Meanwhile, many leagues away in a dimly lit cave among the Beor Mountains, a small group of people huddled close together for warmth. Massive stalactites and stalagmites pierced the air between ceiling and floor, each one easily bigger than a house. Even so the cave wave so spacious that they were still several lengths apart, appearing for all the world like the vicious maw of a gigantic beast, threatening to swallow them whole. Jeod Longshanks and his wife, Helen, were among the huddled group. Beside Jeod sat Nar Gharvog, the Kull's giant skull was lowered as he tried to ignore the incessant dripping of water from far above that assaulted him. Jeod suspected that the Urgal had been put in that spot on purpose as he and his kin put up the most fight but it was all for naught.

Their captors, still unknown for they wore hooded cloaks night and day, had seemingly grabbed all of them from their homes. Some of them, like Jeod and Helen, had been taken in broad daylight in the bustling streets of Ilirea, or Surda in the case of Julian, King Orrin's personal assistant. The few of the prisoners who could use magic, like Trianna and a small group of four Elves, had been rendered incapacitated by a drug and the means of a spell. They all slumbered peacefully, sequestered in their own corner of the cave and oblivious to their plight. Jeod looked around to his left and spied three dwarves, all of the clan DurgrimstIngeitum, their steel helms glittering in the torchlight. He unconsciously tightened his grip on Helen, who slept with her head on his shoulder. He had his suspicions about why they had all been taken – it seemed fairly obvious given there were representatives of all the races, minus the dragons of course - though the reason for taking Helen remained a mystery. He thought perhaps, she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, taken only because she accompanied him that day.

At the mouth of the cave, furious winds swirled violently, threatening to blot out the one torch that illuminated the sorry group. A dark shape stood there, ignoring the cold, wind and light snow that fell around it, their lone prison guard.

The group's first mistake was thinking they could overpower the single man who watched them. Nar Gharzvog and many others banded together at their first chance but were soundly and decisively beaten. The man came away with not even a scratch, nor had he even appeared out of breath, while Gharzvog lay unconscious and the rest of them were held in place by invisible bonds, the means of a spell. That one man could hold of the nearly fifteen of them at once was a very clear indicator; whoever these people were, they were not human nor even Elves. They were stronger of mind and body than any in Alagaesia and they were all at their mercy. Jeod silently prayed to any Gods who were listening, sending his fears and hope to them. He wished Eragon had not left, however noble his mission was. They needed him in Alagaesia and Jeod planned on telling this to Eragon when next he saw him. Or, rather if he ever saw him again.

Hushed voices startled Jeod out of his reverie and he cast about, unable to see much outside of the small ring of light cast by the single torch. He was able to decipher the words "somewhere near Osilon" before the wind picked up once more and carried the voice away on its currents. Then, a minute or so later, he heard "…just arrived. He wishes to speak with them. He also…" and thenJeod could discern no more.

More shadowy figures entered his field of vision and, as a group, walked toward him. Jeod gently nudged Nar Gharzvog and began to stand, eager to question their captors when a voice, deep and smooth, said, "Please, Jeod, stay seated. There is no call to ceremony."

Jeod was surprised this man knew his name but was able to refrain from outwardly showing it. Instead, he replied, "It seems I am at a disadvantage. You know who I am but I do not know who you are. Why are we being held here?"

The man slowly lowered his hood, revealing thin, sharp features. His silver hair was long and dead straight and his piercing grey eyes sparkled over a hooked nose. He smiled at Jeod, revealing pearly white teeth. "My name is of no consequence and I am sorry for the paltry living conditions. You have my word that a more comfortable place will be arranged as soon as possible."

Another hooded figure stepped forward and whispered hurriedly with the man, who had to turn his head to listen. In the process, his hair shifted and revealed pointed ears.

"You are an Elf?" Gharzvog bellowed.

The Elf seemed to ignore the whispers that echoed from the captives until he was finished with his hushed conversation. Before the Elf could say anything else to them, Jeod exclaimed, "Are we not allies? Who are you to do this? You will start a war that could –"

"No, Jeod, we will not start this war. You and your Allies will. Before we let you go, and we will let you all return home eventually, we will wipe your minds of any trace of our presence. With a little push here, a pull there, we will turn you all on each other and, once it is complete, we will take back this land before the lot of you can destroy it any more than you already have."

"Take back this land? It was never yours! The land-"

"Belongs to all of us?! Really, Jeod? Think about this real hard. The Elves were not the first inhabitants of this land nor, really, were the dragons, though they are closer than any of you. WE were the first race to live here and it is to us the land truly belongs. None of you would be alive if it weren't for us." The Elf hung his head and sighed, "If our ancestors could see what became of the sacrifice they had made they would be appalled. Tyranny, corruption, war, widespread panic and chaos, the unchecked and abundant use of resources; I am ashamed for the lot of you."

Jeod could not believe what he was hearing. "You speak of Elves as if you weren't one."

For the first time, the Elf laughed. "Come now Jeod, they told me you were bright. You know the history of this land better than anyone else alive; present company excluded of course. Think."

Jeod ran through a quick list in his head until a thought occurred to him. As the thought became fully formed certainty, he saw the not-Elf smile and nod. A shudder of fear ran down Jeod's spine. _Can he be reading my mind?_

"Well done Jeod. I am heartened you did not disappoint. You will be of great use to us in the future."

"You can't be, though. You all died."

The not-Elf laughed. "Quite clearly, we did not. We were weakened and near death before we were forced to leave. The enchantment we wrought on the Ancient Language nearly killed us all and, if we had not left, I think it might have. We will leave you all to your rest and, in the meantime, I shall inquire as to those nicer living arrangements."

With that, the not-Elf and his compatriots, presumably not-elves as well, turned and left the cave, leaving the lone guard to stand his ever vigilant watch.

Helen grasped Jeod's arm and asked, "What was he talking about?"

"Yes, Longshanks. Why have those Elves done this?" asked Gharzvog.

"They are not elves." Breathed Jeod. His astonishment was still so strong he was having trouble forming a coherent thought. Disbelief greeted his words and one of the Dwarves said, "Barzul! They look like Elves."

Jeod shook his head. "But they are not. He spoke the truth; none of us would be alive today if they had not done what they did millennia ago."

He paused and, upon seeing the confusion of his friends, he stated simply, "They are the Grey Folk."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Just Friends

On a single-masted boat, among the endless expanse of waves and salt water, Nala, Lara, Haleth and several of the Elves paddled furiously, using both the vast energy reserves of the Eldunari to aid their progress, as well as the wind to attempt to make up some lost time due to the numerous storm systems that assaulted them.

It had been nearly a month since they left Du Deloi Dramr and the majority of the remaining Elves behind. They had all wanted to come but, in the end, Eragon convinced them it would be impractical to transport everyone back and that they needed to stay to protect the dragon eggs and Eldunari. Many of the Eldunari, at least the ones who weren't still completely insane, had decided to accompany them back to Alagaesia. Eragon made use of the clever spell Umaroth had taught him on Doru Araeba that hid the Eldunari, as well as six dragon eggs, in a pocket of space behind and slightly above his head.

After selecting the party that would make the trip with him, the lot of them joined minds and, using the strength and memories of the Eldunari, they sang a rough boat into being. The wood melded together seamlessly at their vocal urging, forming a barge-like deck with walls that would come up about six feet above the waterline. The lone mast held a single square sail. When the boat was large enough for Saphira to land on while still leaving enough room for them all to be relatively comfortable, they released the magic. It didn't look like it would hold up to any rough seas or high winds but when Saphira stepped on it with her massive bulk and sharp claws, it not only held firm but it floated with perfect balance. It took them the better part of a day to gather supplies for everyone, as well as meat for Saphira.

Eragon and the Elves knew they had to mentally prepare themselves for a rough voyage with very little comfort or privacy to be had but, while the time they spent on the boat so far wasn't exactly desirable, it was far from unpleasant. It helped considerably that they all seemed to enjoy each other's company. When not exchanging stories, they would immerse themselves in the minds of Umaroth and the other Eldunari, losing themselves for hours among the memories the dragons were willing to share. For Eragon, Nala was a source of constant support and companionship. They would talk about their respective childhoods and upbringing, hobbies and any other topic that came up. Eragon was surprised to learn that, though she was younger than Arya by some twenty years, she had as much, if not more, experience in the world outside of Du Weldenvarden. Her parents had been lucky to escape the fall of the Riders, fleeing from Ilirea even as Galbatorix and the Forsworn laid waste to the city. Years after her birth, when it was discovered she had the gift of gramarye, it was her mother who taught her to control her power. Her skill was why she was chosen as one of the twelve spell casters Islanzadi sent to guard Eragon.

On this occasion, they sat together at the prow of the ship in a private corner, their words lost to eavesdroppers by the strength of the wind and sea spray. She was eager to hear more about his life before she had been sent to protect him so Eragon told her about Garrow and Roran and about his travels with Brom before he made his way to Farthen Dur. He spoke of his friendship and adventures with Murtagh and their flight from Dras Leona to Farthen Dur. He also told her of his time among the dwarves and his travels to Ellesmera with Arya.

At the mention of Arya, Nala said, "We have all seen how much you two care for each other. I must admit that your relationship with her has been the source of some gossip among us for many months. If it is not too bold, what exactly is your relationship with the Queen?"

Eragon felt his cheeks redden and replied, "Arya and I are just friends. We have been through a lot together."

"Is that all?" Nala asked. Eragon thought he could hear hope in her voice.

He nodded and said, in the ancient language, "Just friends."

Also in the ancient language, Nala replied, "Queen Arya has good taste in friends…" then she laid a hand on his knee.

Just as before in Du Deloi Dramr, he felt a twinge in his chest and a warmth that blossomed in his gut. He had to resist the urge to flinch, surprised by the contact and also his confused feelings for her. He stared into her eyes, and she into his, and he blushed again. He didn't know what to say but, thankfully, she looked away from him and seemed to be at complete peace, staring out at the horizon. Of all the women he had met, only Arya had stirred up feelings like this in him. That is, until now. If he was forced to admit it, Nala was quite beautiful. Suddenly eager to escape, he said, "I think Saphira and I should fly a bit, perhaps scout ahead. If we are lucky, maybe we can spot an island where we can rest for the night and replenish our supplies."

Nala seemed to be disappointed but she merely said, "Very well, Shadeslayer."

Saphira grumbled a bit at being woken from her nap but, in the end, she agreed to fly with him. Once in the air, she spiraled high into the clouds until the boat was a mere, fast-moving speck. The sun was about to set, throwing golden rays of light onto the waves. The light was then reflected off of the water, sparkling like a giant, fluid diamond. Saphira glided gently on the currents of air, descending in a wide sweeping pattern, all the while being on the lookout for land. As she got closer to the boat, Eragon could not help but study Nala as she worked with her kin to make the boat fairly fly over the water.

At the moment, she was toiling away with the ropes and sails, trying to make sure she was getting the most aid she could from the wind. A strand of hair lay across her face, whipped about like an angry snake in the wind, but she ignored it, focused as she was on her work. Eragon watched her for a minute longer before Saphira said, _Why haven't you asked her?_

He averted his gaze and felt his cheeks redden. _You know why. I can't, in good conscience, pursue a relationship with Nala while I'm still…hung up on Arya._

She snorted and a puff of smoke escaped her nostrils and swirled around Eragon's head. _Yes, but you didn't get anywhere with Arya, did you? I know that it is hard to forget feelings like that, especially feelings as strong as yours for Arya, but don't you think you owe it to yourself to see to what, if anything, exists between you and Nala? _

Eragon could see the wisdom of her words but he still wasn't sure. _What happens when we see Arya when we get back? It would be too awkward._

_Eragon, Arya told you herself it wouldn't work out between you two. Why must you insist on sabotaging any future relationship you might have based on the slim chance that Arya might change her mind, especially when it looked like you would never see her again? It sounds like you are making excuses._

Eragon blushed and had to fight down a sudden upwelling of anger. _Why are you so concerned with my love life all of a sudden?_

_I'm not; I'm concerned with your lack of a love life._

She retorted.

Eragon was so stunned he didn't know what to say. Saphira had never before been so keen to see him pursue a relationship.

_If anyone knows how you truly feel about Arya, it is I; you can't hide your feelings from me. But I also know that there is an attraction to Nala. I won't tell you what to do but I will tell you that any woman would be lucky to have you and, if anyone deserves to be happy, it is you._

Eragon felt his initial anger subside. In addition to her words, he could feel her love and concern wash over him through their mental link. She really was just concerned with seeing him happy.

_I will think on it. _He said. Then he added, _I love you, Saphira._ She hummed with satisfaction.

About an hour later, after Saphira had landed and the Elves laid back to rest for a bit, Eragon stood at the prow of the boat, the same spot he had been with Nala earlier. He managed to get her attention and beckoned her over. She crossed the space between them with easy, graceful strides and stood beside him. He looked into her eyes again and, in that moment, he knew Saphira was right. He loved Arya, but she had said no. She turned him away. So what was he holding on to?

He gave Nala a small smile and said, "I want to thank you."

She gave him a quizzical look. "What for, Shadeslayer?"

"For making me realize that persisting with things the way they were was not wise. For pulling me back."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"To be honest, I don't either." He laughed. "But, if you are willing, maybe we can try to make sense of it together?"

Nala returned his smile and said, "I would enjoy that."

She leaned against the rail and, emboldened, Eragon placed his hand on top of hers. Together, they watched as the sun finished it's descent below the horizon.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Searching

Arya clung tightly to the saddle as Firnen landed amid a cloud of snow and a rustle of scales and wings. She waited for him to fold his wings tightly to his body before leaping down, sinking almost to her thigh in the snow. The weather had changed rapidly over the last few weeks in the north, dropping blankets of fluffy white snow over the entire landscape. Tree branches hung low with ice and the temperature never seemed to rise above the freezing point. In a few places, the trees were so overloaded with snow and ice that the trunks had broken in half, leaving the scarred, splintered remains a mere ghost of the majestic trees they had once been. Even now, a light snow was falling and the evening sky was prematurely dark with storm clouds. It seemed there was no end in sight.

Arya glanced around at the new Carvahall, taking in every detail. Houses and future shops lined the roads in a near perfect grid. On the opposite side of the river, a large longhouse stood, like a scion of the valley. All around, the makings of a wall were evident, obviously put on hold by yet another snow storm.

_Roran has done much in a short time, _Arya commented to Firnen. She had never personally visited Carvahall before but she had a decent idea of how it had looked before the War from her conversations with Eragon.

_He is as a good a leader as he is a warrior._

Firnen said in his deep, bass voice.

Assuming the longhouse would be the place to best find Roran, she began to walk, using the means of a spell to forge a path through the deep snow while Firnen would leap mightily, traveling thirty feet in the air before landing once more, and sending up a tidal wave of snow from the force of the impact. The sight of a large, green dragon leaping through the snow like a cat, or dog, might was so amusing to Arya that she laughed, the clear musical peals of her mirth sounding loud against the silence around them.

_Are you making fun of me? _Firnen asked.

_Of course not…not really. _Arya replied, unable to suppress her smile.

From within the town, sounds of activity reached them and a line of figures made their way warily toward them.

_Look, we have been noticed. _Said Firnen.

At that moment, a consciousness touched the both of them, probing questioningly.

_Please identify yourself. _Came the voice attached to the consciousness, sounding slightly afraid.

_It is I, Arya, queen of the Elves, and Firnen, my Dragon, friend and constant companion. We seek an audience with Roran Stronghammer, Earl of Palancar Valley. Atra esterni ono thelduin._

Surprise emanated from the foreign mind and the voice replied. _Your Majesty, it is indeed a surprise, and a pleasure. I am Connor of Du Vrangr Gata. Roran sends his well wishes and salutations. If you are amenable, the men who are on their way to your position will escort you to Roran immediately._

_That would be fine. Thank you Connor._

_Your Majesty. _And the connection was severed.

Before long, the men emerged from the growing dusk and, seeing that there was no threat, delighted in showing Arya and Firnen their town as they passed through. Even children poked their head out and tried to escape the clutches of their mothers to see and greet them. The children screamed and yelled with pleasure as Firnen allowed them to approach and even climb him. Arya smiled and waved aside the muttered apologies of the appalled parents, assuring them it was alright.

_This shouldn't take too long, _Arya said to Firnen.

Firnen chuckled as a young girl climbed her way up his tail. _I will be fine here. The younglings amuse me._

Arya followed the established path through the snow, trying her best to ignore the curious glances of the humans. Though everyone knelt or bowed to her as she passed, she noticed some of the men, and even some of the women, were staring at her openly and without shame, causing her to feel slightly uncomfortable. Even so, she bore the scrutiny and was thankful when the great double doors to the longhouse opened and she was able to disappear inside of it. The men pointed her through a doorway and then left, bowing to her as she rounded the corner. There, in front of a fireplace, stood Roran and a thin man Arya assumed was Conner.

They both knelt before her and said, "Your Majesty."

She inclined her head and replied, "Roran, it is good to see you again."

"And you, Your Majesty. Atra esterni ono thelduin." Roran replied.

"Un du evarinya ono varda. Please rise. We are in your house, after all."

The men stood and Roran offered Arya a chair, the largest and most comfortable one right next to the fire. Conner retreated to the doorway and stood out of sight to give them some privacy. Arya sat in the chair and welcomed the warmth of the fire.

"Had I been expecting you, I would have had some refreshments made and waiting for your arrival. If you require anything, I can have it brought at once." Roran said, taking a seat opposite her.

"No, thank you. I am fine. I must say, I am impressed with your village. It must not have been easy to get so much done in so little time."

"No, it wasn't but we managed to get everyone inside their own homes before the snow began to fall. It may still take some time to get everyone comfortable but for now, we have enough to survive."

Arya took a moment to check in on Firnen with her mind, finding him lying flat on the ground as heavily bundled children took turns climbing up one side of him and jumping off the other into the soft snow banks. Pure joy emanated from Firnen as the children laughed.

"So, Your Majesty, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I come with news. You were made aware some weeks ago about the disappearances of several members of each race."

"I was. Has someone else gone missing?"

"Not exactly, no. Rather, they have all returned. Unharmed but extremely confused. None of them can remember what befell them during the course of their absence."

"All of them came back and none of them were hurt?"

"No and they all appear to have had their minds erased."

"How can you tell?"

"It takes some serious magic to erase memories from someone's mind. Magic like that leaves traces, subtle traces, but the clues are all there. I took it upon myself to examine the minds of some of those who had been taken and they all showed those signs. I am afraid Nasuada's fears were correct; there is a new threat to all of us in Alagaesia and it is more sinister than we realize."

Roran cursed softly, "How can we fight something like this? At least with Galbatorix we knew what we were getting into. With this…it is like fighting the shadows."

Arya nodded. "That is, I think, the point. Whoever is behind this is more powerful than even Galbatorix was and much more proficient in magic; a true master. It has fallen to me to find whoever is responsible and bring them to justice."

"Please excuse my ignorance, Your Majesty, and I hope you do not take offence but none of us, you included, could have single-handedly taken on Galbatorix. How do you plan on not only finding the guilty party, let alone defeat them?"

"Therein lies my problem. I know Eragon is on his way back with Saphira but we do not know when they will make landfall. As such, no one else exists in Alagaesia who is able to help me with this except for one person. Murtagh. And, thus, is the reason for my visist."

"Murtagh? Eragon said that he disappeared after Galbatorix was killed."

"He did and no one else has heard from him since he and Thorn left. I was hoping that maybe he had contacted you as you are technically the only family he had left, though I take it by your tone that is not the case?"

"No, I'm sorry. I have not heard from him. Eragon said Murtagh needed time to himself and, if he was going to come back, he would do so on his own."

Arya nodded solemnly, disappointed. This had been her last plausible idea. Short of flying over the countryside with Firnen and bellowing out his name, Arya was unsure how to continue.

Roran cleared his throat and asked, "It has been some weeks since I was told of Eragon's return. You stated that you did not know when to expect him. But do you know where he is likely to end up first?"

"We think he will make landfall somewhere outside of Osilon, where Blodhgarm and the others have landed just two days past. They told us it was a long voyage by ship so flying on dragonback would be unlikely. Rather, they would have had to sing another boat from the resources of their new home and return thus, hopefully with reinforcement. Some of our more accomplished spell-weavers went with Eragon and we shall have need of them I think."

"Aye. I wish Eragon had stayed. We could have used him here. Gods know I miss him."

"Yes, Eragon is very much missed here."

Arya thought of Eragon, as she had many times since he left. She vividly remembered his evident pain and hurt at their parting and, despite herself, she felt that pain as well. She still did not regret her decision to turn down his advances but she dearly missed spending time with him. He was one of the few people who she felt she could talk to without fear of judgement. Now that he was gone, she wished she had confided in him more often; perhaps her feelings for him would have changed. She thought that, given enough time, she very well might grow to love him as she did Faolin, but events conspired against them and drove them apart.

"Forgive me," started Roran, "I know you and Eragon were close friends. His leaving must have been hard on you as well. I know he is very fond of you, though. It clearly hurt him a great deal to leave you behind."

Unconsciously, Arya fingered the letter Eragon had sent to her with Blodhgarm. She smiled, politely. "Yes. But it will not do to dwell on that which we cannot change. Eragon is returning and we shall all see each other soon enough." She stood to leave, wrapping her cloak more tightly about her to ward off the cold air.

"Your Majesty, must you leave so soon? Snow is still falling, along with the temperature. You and Firnen are welcome to stay the night and recover from your travels."

"Nay, though the offer is appreciated. We have much to do and not enough time to do it in. Such is the duty of a Rider and Queen."

"I understand. Safe travels, Queen Arya." Roran bowed.

"May peace live in your heart, Roran Stronghammer."

With that Arya turned and exited the double doors, her breath turning into plumes of smoke in the frigid night air. Snow seemed to be falling more steadily now than before and Arya knew that the night would be an unpleasant one.

_Firnen? We needs must leave now_. She said.

She retraced her steps to where she had left Firnen, thankful most of the people had gone back into their homes. She found Firnen buried up to his ribcage in mounds of snow with the tiny, snowy footprints of the children all over his back and tail and even his face. She laughed as he stood and shook back and forth to rid himself of the snow. In his wake, a near perfect mold of his body was left in the snow.

_I've heard of snow angels but never a snow dragon. Now I've seen it all._

A deep rumbling emanated from Firnen's chest and Arya leaped up his right foreleg and landed lightly in the saddle, shivering as she could feel the cold leather through her many layers of clothes. Under her breath, she uttered a spell to shield her from the cold air and precipitation. A small, invisible bubble formed around her, noticeable only because the snow fell in sheets around it. Within the bubble, the air grew noticeably warmer.

_Ready? _Firnen asked.

_Ready. _She said.

The great green dragon leapt into the air and spread his wings. The webs of his wings filled with air, much like the sail of a ship, and lifted them higher and higher. He circled the village once and then headed south, toward Ilirea. Nasuada said that Jeod and his wife, now safely back home, were ready to give their account of their captivity and Arya wanted to be present for it. She wouldn't rely on information gathered by someone else to aid her in her fight against the perpetrators. She needed to hear it all herself and form her own opinion, especially given the mysterious nature of the disappearances and subsequent reappearance of the victims. Firnen's wing soon beat a cadence that lulled Arya to near sleep. Overcome by exhaustion, she allowed her pulse to slow, closed her eyes and lost herself among her waking dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – News

"It is my pleasure to announce Arya Drotning, Shadeslayer, Queen of the Elves and Rider of the green dragon Firnen."

The size of the throne room was no match for the man's voice as he announced Arya's arrival. There was some applause from the nobles gathered though, Arya was somewhat perversely pleased to notice, they all avoided eye contact.

"Welcome, Arya." Came Nasuada's voice from the throne. She sat resplendent in a voluminous velvet cloak, which Arya recognized as the one she had given to Nasuada as a gift and the gems in her crown sparkled brilliantly. Her dress was a deep red and of the finest make. Her teeth shone brightly as she flashed a smile, clearly pleased to see Arya. Nasuada rose from her throne and welcomed Arya face to face.

"This is a pleasant surprise, Arya. I am about done here I think. Shall we walk and talk so we may have some privacy?"

"Yes, I would like that." Arya replied. Nasuada dismissed the nobles present and, together, the two women exited the throne room. They engaged in small talk until, after several minutes, they reached an abandoned section of the newly restored wall. The air was slightly warmer here than it had been in Carvahall and the surrounding areas but it was still quite cool. Nasuada told Arya of her search for anyone with information on the disappearances and revealed that, much like Arya, she had no concrete evidence. Arya then told Nasuada of her own search and of her visit with Roran, broaching the subject of Murtagh with some discretion. She only knew of Nasuada's confused feelings for Murtagh because Nasuada had confided in her and she had no wish to cause her undue distress. Softly, she said, "He hasn't contacted you in any way, has he?"

Nasuada stared out over the wall with an odd look on her face, as if hoping Murtagh might suddenly appear. "No."

Arya nodded and let the subject fall away; now was not the time to get into that.

"And what of Eragon? Anything new since your last message to me?"

Nasuada gestured to the west. "They have apparently been making good time. Eragon contacted my magicians just last night and said, barring any setback, they should arrive within the week."

"That is good. I fear he may be sorely needed."

"Agreed. But I can't help but wonder why, though? Granted, we were all worried when so many disappeared but they have all returned, unharmed to boot. If whoever is responsible wanted to hurt us, why release the prisoners?"

"I would not call losing memory of the last several weeks unharmed. Scooping that much information out of someone's head can leave scars. However, something does not feel right about this. They would only release the prisoners, their only true leverage, if they did not need that leverage. Which then begs the question, why bother taking so many in the first place? I think only one answer is plausible."

"Information." Nasuada said.

Arya nodded. "Information can be just as deadly as a sword or arrow. You must take great care to watch yourself, Nasuada. I think we are all in more danger than we can possibly understand."

"Why do you think this is happening now?"

"We just finished a war campaign that cost us dearly, in both natural resources and lives. Then, the most dangerous person in Alagaesia, namely Eragon, left for parts unknown. It seems like the perfect time to strike. We are all weakened."

"I guess I will have to marshal the Army and prepare them as best I can. I will get them ready and prepared to fight should the need arise."

"As will I," Arya said, "Many of my warriors are camped in and around Osilon. I will send them a message to prepare for the worst."

The two women spent a little more time discussing other matters of varying import before Nasuada said, "I am afraid I have been gone too long and I must get back to my duties. Please, feel free to stay and rest. Eragon should be back soon and I'm sure he can help you find Murtagh."

Arya and Nasuada parted ways then, Nasuada to her chambers and Arya continued to stroll upon the wall, lost in her thoughts. She was vaguely aware of Firnen flying over the plains in pursuit of his dinner, a group of bounding deer. She wandered for many minutes when she became aware of a presence. It was light at first but then grew stronger. The only reason she didn't panic was because it seemed familiar, a mind she had not felt in many, many months.

_Eragon?_ She asked.

_Aye. Atra esterni ono thelduin, Arya Drotning._

She repeated the elven greeting to him, surprised by how excited she was to hear from him.

_Where are you? _She asked.

_Flying on Saphira above the ship. With any luck, we will reach Hedarth in three days' time._

_Three days? Nasuada isn't expecting you for another week. Blodhgarm said it took them months to cross the ocean._

_Yes, but they did not have the Eldunari to aid them. How are things going there? Have you discovered anything new?_

_Not like this. I will meet you in Hedarth and tell you everything personally. We cannot be sure who to trust at the moment._

Acknowledgment greeted her words, then Eragon said, _As you wish. I will see you in three days, then._

_Yes. Three days._ And then he was gone.

Firnen touched her mind and said, _I am already on my way, Little One._ She could sense his own excitement at seeing Saphira again.

Arya smiled and ran along the wall until she spotted Firnen, flying low over the plains. She leaped up onto the battlement and, when Firnen passed along the wall, she jumped, using magic to aid her landing in the saddle. Without breaking a wing stroke, Firnen angled to the south and west and glided.

Extending her mind, Arya found Nasuada and quickly explained what was happening.

_That is good news. Will you return here after Hedarth?_

_I think we must; Eragon will want to talk to those who were taken captive as well. Can you gather them all and have them wait?_

_I will._

Arya broke the contact and grinned to herself. All those months ago when Eragon departed, even though she had denied his advances because the timing was not right, she held out on the hope that they would see each other again. And now, that time had come. Absently, she grasped the folded parchment in a hidden pocket inside her traveling cloak, the note from Eragon, and she smiled.

* * *

Leagues away, Saphira landed again on the ship. Nala smiled warmly at Eragon as he dismounted Saphira and warmed his hands by the heat of a flameless fire Lara had conjured.

"How went it?" Nala asked.

"Fine. I made contact. Arya will meet us in Hedarth in three days' time."

Nala looked to the sky. "We are moving swiftly thanks to the Edunari. We should have no trouble making that rendezvous." She lowered her eyes and met Eragon's gaze. "We are almost home."

"Aye. Home."

The word sounded almost foreign to him. Ever since the death of his Uncle and his flight from Palancar Valley in pursuit of the Ra'zac, Eragon had never been in one place long enough to call it home. The closest he had come was his time spent in Ellesmera being tutored by Oromis but, even then, it never felt as comfortable as his home in Carvahall. He thought Du Deloi Dramr was to be his best chance now but even that seemed to be slipping away from him.

Nala grabbed his hand and said, "Something troubles you, Eragon."

"Is it that obvious?" He was reluctant at first to open up but Nala continued to coax him until, eventually, he voiced his thoughts.

Nala thought for a moment and looked out to the horizon.

"Many years ago, a young elf met an elf maid and they fell in love. Together, they started a family and they were happy for a while. After a time, the young elf grew restless and longed for excitement and adventure. Despite the pleadings of his family, his eagerness for adventure drove him to leave them behind. He roved the land for years, visiting even the most obscure places of Alagaesia but happiness continued to elude him, for he often thought of his family and his home. Realizing his mistake, he hastened to return to Du Weldenvarden and his family. When he arrived, he discovered his mate and child were no longer living there. He spent many months more searching all the cities for them until, at long last, he found them. He begged their forgiveness and, in time, worked his way back into their good graces. Never again did he yearn for more and he spent the remainder of his long years with them. He could never find happiness because he had left behind that which truly made him happy. Do you understand?"

Nala placed an open palm on Eragon's chest, directly over his heart.

"Home and happiness can be found if you follow your heart. It isn't dependent upon a specific location but rather who you choose to make your company with. Those relationships are what make a home feel like home."

Her words swept away all of Eragon's worries and made him feel better about his lot in life. He instinctively glanced at Saphira and knew that as long as he had her, he would always be home no matter where they were. His next thought was of Arya…then he froze.

Arya wasn't here with him – hadn't been for a long time - but she continued to remain in his thoughts. He also noticed that she seemed to intrude on his mind at the most inopportune times, namely when he was with Nala. Steeling himself, he pushed thoughts of Arya away and focused on Nala, forcing his mind to clear.

"Thank you, Nala Svit-kona."

"You are welcome, Eragon-elda."

They stared at each other for a moment before Eragon, spurred on by the sudden desire to leave thoughts of Arya behind, stepped forward and hugged Nala. She was surprised by the action but, after a moment, she relaxed into his arms and hugged him back, smiling into his shoulder.

They parted and Nala stood on her toes, lightly brushing her cherry lips against his cheek.

A low growl interrupted them and Nala jumped as Saphira snaked her long neck around them, centering one of her large sapphire eyes on the elf woman. She stared at her for several, uncomfortable minutes before uttering a low grunt. Projecting her thoughts to Nala, but so Eragon could hear as well, Saphira said, _I approve. You will come fly with us soon, yes?_

_Eka weohnata dunei eom, Bjartskular._ I would love to, Brightscales.

Saphira then closed her mind to Nala and said, in private, to Eragon, _I can smell the earth; we are getting close. If we can see land by morning, I must go hunting. I need fresh meat to fill my belly._

_We shouldn't separate if we can help it. Can you not wait until we at least make it a fair way up the Edda river?_

Saphira thought for a moment. _Very well. Two days, no more._

_I understand. Thank you._

She nudged his arm with her nose and then closed off her mind to him as well, to give him some semblance of privacy.

"She likes you." He commented to Nala.

"I am glad. I would not want to be on her bad side."

Behind Eragon, Saphira growled an affirmative and the deck of the ship vibrated as she hummed deep in her chest.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – Painful Memories

The morning of the next day dawned clear and bright, bringing with it a dark line on the horizon.

_Alagaesia!_ Thought Eragon. _We made it! We have finally returned!_

_Aye, but what exactly have we returned to?_ Commented Saphira.

Eragon and the others rowed with renewed vigor and, aided by the immense power of the Eldunari, they rapidly approached the coast. Using Saphira's innate sense of direction and her memories, they realized they needed to travel south along the coast until they found the mouth of the Edda River. It took a good portion of the afternoon and, as a result, the sun was almost completely set before they found their destination. Nala and Lara skillfully manipulated the sails and the ship fairly flew through the estuary and into the Edda River proper. By the time the sun had fully set, they were fully enclosed on both sides by rolling hills and towering mountains. The air became frigid and they all had to bundle up in heavy cloaks and gloves.

_Winter has fallen here. _Saphira commented, eyeing dark storm clouds forming off to the west.

_Aye. I know I asked you to wait two days before going to hunt but maybe you should go now, before those storm clouds hit us. If it gets too windy you will have a hard time in the air._

Saphira grunted in response. _I won't be long._

She extended her wings and drew them back so far that they almost touched at the apex of their arc. The ship rocked violently as she jumped, launching herself twenty feet into the air. She drove her wings downward and the air vibrated with a concussion that hurt Eragon's ears and jarred his teeth. Three massive flaps of her wings later, Saphira was soaring over the river and she disappeared.

Since they were traveling against the current and there was very little wind at the moment, Eragon and the Elves had to rely on the strength of their bodies, aided by the Eldunari, to propel the ship. Granted, they could row nonstop for several years and not use all of the energy from the stores of the Eldunari, but it soon became a tedious exercise. So eager were they to be done with their journey, they all voted to work in rotating shifts throughout the night.

Saphira reappeared a few hours after the sun had fully set and landed on the deck, careful not to clip the mast, sails or rigging ropes with her wings.

_I assume the hunt was successful? _Eragon queried.

_Is there any other kind of hunt for a dragon?_

It wasn't until the wee hours of the morning, that special sort of pre-dawn where the sky begins to brighten but the sun has not yet breached the horizon that the snow began to fall. Their surroundings took on an eerie, ethereal visage, made all the more foreboding by the high walls of the steep banks of the river. The deck of the ship soon became slick with powdered snow and had to be cleared several times by means of a spell so they could walk without fear of injury.

Based on his previous trip through this channel, Eragon guessed they had one more day left before reaching Hedarth, making him right on time to meet Arya. Eragon didn't notice right away, but the closer they got to their destination the more agitated he became. Saphira did, however.

She nudged him lightly. _Why so tense, Little One?_

_I'm nervous, I guess. I mean, you saw Arya when we left. I think we were both distraught, and it seemed like her distress was genuine, but how will she react to Nala?_

_Does it really matter how she reacts?_ Saphira asked.

_Of course it does! Why wouldn't it?_

_What I mean is however Arya reacts – for good or for bad – has no bearing on your relationship with Nala. Whatever existed between you and Arya is no more and should remain that way._

Eragon was stunned. Never before had Saphira said anything like this about Arya. Throughout her speech, undercurrents of anxiety and even anger rippled through their mental link. _You feel really strongly about this._

_How can I not? Ever since you first started having those dreams about Arya, you were completely obsessed with her. Not once, not twice, but three separate times she denied your advances and you were rendered nearly inconsolable on all three occasions. I would not have you hurt like this again._

_The third time was mutual, though. I was leaving and she couldn't follow. It was my fault, if any fault is to be had._

_Eragon, you don't understand, though you should by now. What you feel, I feel. Whatever hurts you…_

_Hurts you too…_ Eragon felt a lump form in his throat. _Saphira, I am so sorry. I never thought about it like that._

There was an awkward silence between them, broken when Saphira snorted, sending out a jet of flame from her nostril and vaporizing a vast swath of snowflakes before her. _No matter. Like I said before, I want you to be happy and follow your heart. I see, and feel, how you are with Nala and I do believe she returns those feelings. Don't let your brain interfere with your heart._

_Well, the heart is just a muscle and cannot actually feel, or think, but your point is well taken._ He placed a hand on her leg. _I don't know what I would do without you, Saphira._

She winked a great blue eye at him, her bony eyelids clacking together. _I love you too, Little One._

Their conversation rattled around in Eragon's mind for the remainder of the morning. He was still a little anxious but he decided Saphira was right. Right now, Nala was the best thing for him and he was determined to see where this relationship would lead. Arya, while he was certainly still fond of her and counted her among his greatest friends, would have to be ok with it. Besides, it wasn't as if Arya would be making the trip back to Du Deloi Dramr with him when this situation, whatever it was, was sorted out. His thoughts were interrupted when Saphira lifted her head and sniffed the air experimentally.

_What is it? What do you smell?_

_It smells like...home._ She reared her head up, her long neck making her look like a snake – a really big, blue dragon snake – and she roared loudly.

Eragon's ears rang and he felt almost sick to his stomach until, in the distance, he heard a roar in answer. Though it had been many months since he had heard it, Eragon knew at once.

_Firnen! Arya!_

He sent out his mind in the direction of the roar, ignoring the plants, ignoring the animals still trying to keep warm in their dens, ignoring the cave bear who groaned and growled in displeasure at being awoken from his hibernation by the roaring dragons and ignoring the birds who had taken flight, startled from their roosts. He kept going until he felt them, their mind bright and vibrant with power and excitement.

_Eragon! Saphira!_

The two dragons roared once more and the elves cheered. Finally, their journey was over. Finally, they had returned home.

The two minds grew brighter and came closer in proximity until, from within the gloomy cumulonimbus clouds, Firnen came into view. The green dragon had grown much larger in their absence, getting both thicker and more muscular in the chest, legs, neck and back. Eragon grinned as Saphira roared once more, flaring her wings and sending a monumental torrent of fire into the air in greeting. The elves cheered and called out greetings to Firnen and their Queen.

_Welcome home, Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales. Atra esterni ono thelduin._

_Atra du evarinya ono varda._

_Un atra mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr._

_It is great to see you again, Arya Drotning. Why have you come so far south? We weren't supposed to meet up for another day yet._

_We grew restless and Firnen wanted to explore a bit; it is the first time he has been in this part of Alagaesia. _

Saphira rocked the boat as she stood and ruffled her wings, the sound of her scales rustling made the skin on Eragon's neck crawl.

_I've been through here once or twice. I will show him around._ Saphira didn't wait for a response, leaping into the air and taking flight. She circled above while Firnen dropped low and allowed Arya to drop from his back onto the deck of the ship, slowing her descent with a spell. As soon as Arya was clear of the saddle, Firnen flapped away, joining Saphira. The two dragons soon disappeared into the stormy sky.

Arya fell softly and landed next to Eragon and, as she put her full weight on her feet, she began to slip on the snow covered wood. Eragon threw out an arm to catch her and Arya landed full into his chest, one arm wrapped around his neck. His heart jumped and he hurried to get her to her feet. It might have been Eragon's imagination but it seemed like she was taking her time in doing so.

"I cry your pardon, Eragon-elda." She muttered, her voice barely a whisper. Eragon could only nod in response.

Once she was on solid footing, all of the Elves lined up to greet her, bowing, touching their first two fingers on their right hand to their lips and uttering the traditional Elven greeting. Once the pleasantries were dispensed with and the Elves resumed their duties, Arya took Eragon aside. She wasted little time in telling him of all the occurrences in Alagaesia that sparked his return. When she was done, he said, "I think you are right. All of them returning would be too much of a coincidence in of itself but none of them having any memory of it? Impossible. I don't like to say it but I think whoever is behind this is more dangerous than Galbatorix was."

"Nasuada and I are of the same opinion. All of the prisoners have been gathered in Ilirea and they await our arrival. We should question them without further delay and examine their minds. With any luck, we might be able to discover something the perpetrator, or perpetrators, missed."

"Agreed."

Eragon lost himself in thought until Arya said, "How have you been Eragon?"

He looked up and found himself staring into her impossibly green eyes. "F-fine." He managed. Steeling his nerves, he said, "How have you been?"

She smiled and absently brushed her long hair behind her ear, exposing the alabaster skin of her neck. "I have been well. Thank you. My duties as Queen have kept me busy but I still enjoy working for the good of my people."

"And what of Nasuada? Has she had any more troubles since I left?"

The whole while Arya talked, Eragon did his best to avoid making direct eye contact but he found he couldn't help himself. Her eyes entranced him and he found them too difficult to avoid. More than that, he _wanted_ to look into her eyes. Those green pools had always intrigued him and, it seemed, their prolonged separation did nothing to diminish this. She spoke at length about Nasuada's accomplishments and her continued efforts to ensure peace between all of the races. Eragon was very surprised to learn that Nasuada had granted the whole of Furnost to Nar Garzhvog's tribe. The town, situated on the northern bank of Lake Tudosten, bordered the Hadarac Desert and would give his people plenty of room to expand and grow without fear of intruding on the human's land. The people who already lived in Tudosten were granted new homes in Ilirea though several families, Eragon was surprised to hear, decided to stay. The Urgals did not object but rather welcomed those families. Arya said Nar Garzhvog was so pleased by Eragon's inclusion of his race into the spell that bound Riders to Dragons that he would do anything at all to ensure the continued peace that reigned over the races of Alagaesia.

"You performed a truly amazing deed, Eragon. Even if you were to accomplish nothing else in your life, you would still be considered one of the greatest and most prominent figures in history."

Eragon blushed. "I don't know about all that…I mean I always had you to help me, didn't I?"

"That does not detract from the magnitude of your actions."

Eragon smiled and looked to the sky. The sun, though it must have long since reached its zenith and begun its descent by now, was still hidden by the storm clouds. Eragon shook his head, loosening the flakes of snow that clung to his hair. Arya reached over and lightly brushed another clump that had accumulated on his shoulder. When she touched him, Eragon stiffened. Arya didn't seem to notice, instead looking to the Elves.

"It looks like you and my kin have done well. If you would describe it to me, I would love to hear all about your new home and the land in which you have settled."

Before Eragon could begin, Arya flinched, grasping her arm. At the same time, Eragon felt a sharp pain in his side, along his ribs. At first he was confused but then cold fear gripped him, colder even than the air around them. It wasn't his pain he was feeling.

"Saphira!" he cried.

"I can't feel Firnen's mind! He isn't responding!" Arya said, her eyes wide.

Eragon had stared down entire armies with her and never before had he seen Arya look so afraid. Admittedly, he felt the same way. Though he knew it was futile, Eragon reached out with his mind but he could feel nothing of Saphira's, or Firnen's, mind. Nor could he feel that subconscious tingle in the back of his mind that had been there since the moment he had first touched Saphira, bonding him to her.

"They…They're gone." He said, his eyes filling with hot tears. He saw Arya's own eyes welling up and her mouth was working up and down like she wanted to speak but no sound came out.

"What do we do?' asked Nala.

Eragon whipped his head up and saw Nala standing behind Arya, watching them both. The other Elves had also ceased their activities and watched them all intently.

Arya did not, could not, speak; indeed she seemed to look to Eragon for the answer.

"What do we do, Eragon?" Nala repeated.

Eragon thought for a moment but was soon overcome by despair, a black, heavy feeling that weighed him down until he no longer had the energy to even move his head.

In the end, he could only manage three words.

"I know not."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Time seemed to stop for Eragon. Everything around him slowed and became inconsequential. Nothing mattered and nothing else existed except the wound in his mind. He involuntarily dropped to his knees as his legs gave out beneath him. Beside him, Arya did the same.

_Saphira._

Her absence left a void that could not be filled. Sure, they had been separated before for prolonged periods of time but, in the back of his mind, he could always feel her, sense her, presence. Now, it was as if his mind had lost the frequency of hers and, no matter how hard he tried, he could not pick it up again.

"They aren't really gone, though, right? I mean…they aren't…" Nala couldn't quite get the words out but her meaning was crystal clear.

"No," said Eragon at once. "They aren't dead; we would know if they were. We just can't feel them anymore." He knew his words to be true – for certain they would have felt the deaths of their bonded partners – but there was always a bit of doubt that plagued him, always a chance he was wrong, no matter how small.

"Aye," breathed Arya, her cheeks sparkled with fresh rivulets of tears. She was visibly trying to regain control of her emotions, her voice and her limbs shaking.

Eragon placed a hand on her shoulder and she laid her palm on the crook of his elbow.

"We will find them." He said. "Nosu weohnata finna Saphira un Firnen."

Saying the words in the ancient language made him feel markedly better and it appeared to have the same effect on Arya. They both stood and, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, she released him and he withdrew his arm. It did not escape his notice that Nala sidled closer to him defensively, looping an arm through his. Eragon felt a little lucky his body blocked Arya's view of her actions; he was upset enough without having to discuss his new relationship with his old crush.

"So what do we do?" Nala asked again.

"We can't go looking for them yet. It would take us months to navigate that terrain on foot." Eragon talked as if he were thinking to himself, though everyone listened with rapt attention. "And we can't go alone. Whatever, or whoever, is doing this must be extremely powerful to overcome two dragons…We need to get to Hedarth and send word to Orik. Maybe he can lend us some horses and some warriors."

_We will lend our strength and knowledge as well, Eragon. You and Arya are not alone in this._

It had been so long since Eragon had heard Glaedr speak, the golden dragon's voice startled him.

_Thank you, ebrithil._

_Aye, thank you, Glaedr-elda, _added Arya.

Eager to distract himself, Eragon manned an oar, relieving Haleth, and set a pace the other Elves were hard pressed to match, even with the added strength of the Eldunari. He hadn't felt this hopeless since before his back had been healed during the Agaeti Blodhren, the festival celebrating the pact forged between the Elves and Dragon, making it possible to bind a Rider to a Dragon. Every passing moment only exacerbated his distress. He wanted to _do_ something, anything, to find Saphira and Firnen. His inaction, though forced, felt like a betrayal to Saphira and it was almost too much to bear.

The sky began to clear and the snow finally abated. Though it got markedly colder as the night deepened, Eragon refused to relent. After many hours at his fevered, crazed pace, before the night turned into early morning, Nala knelt beside Eragon's oar seat and tried to coax him into giving up his spot.

Her hand was soft and gentle on his knee as she whispered, "Come, Eragon. You must rest. You cannot be of any use to Saphira when we make port in Hedarth if you cannot even stand. Come. My brethren and I will handle the ship."

"I am tired of making everyone do all the work for me!" he spat from between clenched teeth as he ignored his sore muscles, pulling the oar through the water with all of his might.

"You are doing no such thing. We help you because we all respect, and love, you. We love you, and Saphira, for what you have done to help not only our race but the Dragons and all of Alagaesia. We help you because, even if it is in some obscure way, it feels like we are also helping everyone else. We abandoned our homes, twice, because we believe in you. We help you of our own free will. If you understand nothing more of us then, at the very least, understand that."

She spoke firmly and, after her words had a chance to sink in, Eragon knew he had offended her. He immediately felt guilty for snapping at her. He banked the oar and cringed when he flexed his cramped, blistered fingers.

He averted his eyes from Nala's and said, "I apologize. I did not mean to offend you. I was…am…upset and I spoke badly."

Nala grabbed both of his hands with her own. Eragon had never noticed it before but, compared to his hands, Nala's seemed small and pale. She spoke a word in the Ancient Language and his hands were instantly soothed by a feeling like ice cold water running over his skin, healing his blisters.

"Apology accepted, Eragon-elda."

Haleth took Eragon's place at the oar while Nala led Eragon to the spot at the stern of the ship where their makeshift galley was located. Arya was there, seated on an empty, upturned barrel, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. Her eyes were blank and Eragon was sure she didn't even notice them approaching.

"I just made some tea. Drink and recover. I think we shall arrive in Hedarth by early afternoon."

Eragon nodded and found Nala facing him, standing very close. Before he knew what was happening, Nala wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tip toes, drawing him into her. His heart raced with anticipation as her lips closed the remaining distance and brushed against his. They remained locked in their intimate embrace for what seemed like a blissful eternity before she pulled back.

"We will find Saphira. I promise." She whispered.

Eragon didn't answer. He just nodded his head, struck dumb by their first kiss. His lips tingled where hers had just been, feeling suddenly cold in contrast to her warmth. She smiled at him and he watched her walk away and join the other Elves. His heart was still racing and he felt a sudden surge of happiness. He was still worried and stressed about Saphira's and Firnen's well-being but his anger and pain was somewhat tempered by Nala's affection.

Still reeling from the kiss, Eragon poured himself a mug of tea and joined Arya, sitting on a wooden crate across from her. A single torch stuck upright in the rail above Arya's head offered a faint pool of light, unneeded due to their superior ocular acuity but still welcome on a cold, dark night. She still stared out at the horizon and Eragon was silently grateful she hadn't witnessed his and Nala's moment together.

He let her sit in silence for a bit so he could sip his tea and warm his hands. He drew his cloak tighter around his shoulders as a particularly chilly blast of air swirled around them. Arya remained perfectly still however and Eragon began to worry about her. Her cheeks and nose looked like they were severely wind burned and her eyes were bloodshot. Eragon had never seen her this distraught.

He stood and removed his heavy cloak. Moving slowly so as to not startle her, he draped the cloak around her shoulders. She jumped a little and looked at him with tear glazed eyes.

"I know." He said.

"If anyone understands it is you." She relaxed a bit and pulled the cloak tighter about her. "Thanks."

"Of course." He sat back down and, using a spell Lara had taught him to conjure the blue flame, started a fire between them, shaping the blue flames until they were large enough to bathe them in heat and keep the biting wind at bay.

Arya took a deep breath and said, "It's just so hard, being away from him. This is the longest we have been apart since he hatched." She wiped a fresh tear from her cheek.

"I wish I could tell you it gets easier but it never really does. You will always worry about someone you love whether you are apart or not. All we can do is believe that they will be alright until we see them again."

At this, recognition flashed across Arya's face, like Eragon had struck a chord within her. "That is true."

She gave him a once over and said, "I keep thinking back from when we first met, to our time in Farthen Dur and then Ellesmera, to after you defeated Galbatorix. And then when you left…" she paused in her reminiscence and appeared to choke up a bit, the words stuck in her throat. Eragon crossed to her and knelt beside her. He wasn't sure what to do as he had never seen her like this and he didn't want to offend her by doing the wrong thing. He wanted to comfort her so, in the end, he gently put his arm around her shoulders, lending her his companionship. She took a deep breath and continued.

"You have changed so much in such a short time and I didn't think it was possible but, just since the last time I saw you, you have grown even more. I never thought the Eragon from before would be offering me words of solace." She laughed a little. "This is kind of a weak moment. I apologize; a queen should be stronger than this."

"You are the strongest person I know." Said Eragon. "Everything that has happened since I first met you I have only been able to do because you were with me. You pushed me to be better and focus on our cause and I would never have been able to accomplish half of those things without you. All of your subjects see that strength and fire in you too. There is no shame in your distress; it only means you are capable of love. I think that a Queen who can love is the Queen you want leading your people."

Arya tenderly caressed his cheek. "You have grown wise, Eragon-elda."

"Oromis taught me many things, not the least of which is the power of the mind. If we believe it, we can make it so." He squared his shoulders to her and placed his own hand on her cheek, mirroring her position. "We will find them and they will be alright."

She leaned forward. Eragon did the same until their foreheads met and their eyes closed. They stayed thus for a few moments and then, softly, Arya muttered, "Eka elrun ono."

"Your welcome."

Eragon opened his eyes and saw Arya looking at him. She was so close, her skin so soft, the smell of freshly cut pine needles was so enticing. Her lips parted slightly and she came closer, her hand on his cheek pulling him, guiding him closer to her. In his head, he knew he should pull away but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss her and he couldn't stop himself. Her lips were so close he could feel the heat on his own, so inviting…

"Arya Drotning. Eragon. Come quick!"

The shout jarred them apart and they looked at each other sheepishly, painfully aware of how close they had come.

They stood and looked around. Thankfully, all of the Elves had their eyes on the high wall of the ravine above them and not on Eragon and Arya. Eragon followed the gaze of the Elves and saw, there above them, three small figures on the backs of Feldûnost .

A very loud, very gruff voice yelled, "Hwatum il skilfz gerdumn! Hear mine words! Identify yourselves!"

The three figures brandished weapons. It was difficult to tell due to the darkness and swirling mist, but they looked like spears. One of them held a drawn bow.

"Rïsa." Eragon muttered under his breath, in his mind, "rise" meaning the volume of his voice. Then he said, "My name is Eragon, son of Brom. Shadeslayer. Kingkiller. Leader of the Riders. With me is Arya, Queen of the Elves, Shadeslayer and Rider as well Nala, Lára, Haleth and several of the Alfakyn. We seek Orik, King of the Dwarves and my foster brother. We are in need of his help."

His voice echoed loudly off of the ravine walls and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arya wince slightly and cover her ears. He cut the flow of magic and said, "Sorry."

"Barzuln!" Yelled one of the Dwarves. He said many more fleeting things in Dwarvish and one of the dwarves, the one with the bow, saluted and rode away on the Feldûnost .

"Around the next corner. Make land. We meet you there." And they rode away.

Eragon ran to the bow, stood tall and said, "Bank the oars and trim the sails."

Excitement flooded through him, his awkward moment with Arya forgotten. The Elves did as he commanded and Eragon closed his eyes.

_Glaedr, ebrithil, please assist me._

_I am here, Eragon._

Eragon felt the mind the dragon's consciousness envelop his own and could also sense the vast energy stores of the Eldunari. The energy thrummed and vibrated in his mind, almost as if the energy wanted to be used.

"Gánga."

The ship shuddered once, then twice. The third time, Eragon felt the ship rise out of the water slightly. He funneled the energy into the spell, burning it without heed. He felt the wind whip through his hair and sting his face, but the cold would not stop him. Saphira's plight was the only thing in his mind and he was so close to getting what he needed to find her.

The ship careened wildly around the bend in the river and, with his mind, Eragon sensed a clearing in the landscape. The ravine walls dropped and a bare stretch of sand and silt led up into a grassy hill and into the dense forest that draped the Beor Mountains in its greenery.

"Blöthr." The ship slowed steadily to a halt.

"Rïsa." The Elves gasped as the ship rose, this time completely out of the water, and Eragon eased the ship up onto the shore and away from the fast flowing water of the river.

"Hold on." he said aloud, so the Elves could prepare for when he lowered the ship.

He slowly, gingerly, released his hold on the magic and the ship bumped into the soft sand, jarring them all.

"As fun as that was," said Lára. "A little warning next time, Shadeslayer?"

"Of course, Lára-svitkona. My apologies."

Eragon heard the footfalls of the Feldûnost and the two Dwarves burst out of the forest and onto the sand.

"Argetlam." They said, bowing. "It is really is you." Eragon saw that both of them bore the mark of the Ingeitum, a hammer surrounded by twelve stars.

"Aye, it is good to see friendly faces, especially those of my adoptive clan. It is a pleasure to meet you, brothers."

The Dwarves dismounted and Eragon found himself clasping forearms with them, made all the more awkward due to the vast differences in height.

Arya jumped down and landed next to Eragon, startling the Dwarves.

"Kvetha Fricai. Atra esterni ono thelduin."

The two Dwarves bowed solemnly to Arya, and said, "Welcome, Queen. Please, follow us. King Orik will be awaiting for us at Hedarth."

"Wait, Orik is here?" Eragon asked.

"Aye, Argetlam. He was made aware of your return some weeks ago and he wanted to be here to greet you. If you will let us, we will guard you and escort you all to meet with him."

"Please." Eragon said. He turned to the Elves and said, "The ship will be fine here. Come, friends. We shall have a hot meal and, tonight, we will sleep on dry land."

They cheered and bowed, saying, "To hear is to obey, Shadeslayer."

Nala gave him a warm smile from her perch on the ship and Eragon returned it. Arya, who had been watching him, gave him a curious look but said nothing.

All of the Elves joined them on the sand and fell in line behind the Dwarves, who bustled about, buckling packs onto the backs of the Feldûnost, muttering in Dwarvish.

"Come, the sun will be up soon and the King will be awaiting our report."

The Dwarves patted the rumps of the Feldûnost and they began to trot.

Eragon found himself with Arya on his right and Nala on his left. He smiled to them both and, not knowing how to deal with the awkwardness of his situation, followed the Dwarves into the dark forest knowing that, in just a few short hours, he would be able to commence his search for Saphira.

_I am coming, friend-of-my-heart, _sending out his thought like a silent prayer.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 – Allies, Old and New

Murtagh knelt by a pot of boiling water, chopping up squares of venison and tossing them in to the churning liquid. Once all the meat was in the pot, he used the bloody blade of his knife to stir the contents of his stew. He removed the now clean blade and used it to chop up some wild onions he had found as well as two potatoes and tossed them in as well. He stirred the pot once more and then, needing to let the stew simmer until the meat was tender, he left the pot suspended over the fire and went to his bed, a slab of rock protruding from the side of the cave he had made his home.

_What do you see?_ he asked.

_Nothing for miles,_ Thorn responded.

_The Urgals have abandoned the search?_

_Yes, and wisely so. You would think after killing their entire scouting party, as well as their reinforcements, they would take the hint, _Thorn chuckled.

_The Urgals are not as dumb as Galbatorix said they were, just very easy to predict. All they know is that a formidable foe resides in the area and they see a chance for glory and honor in combat._

_Even so, it might be good if we moved on. We have been here for too long. Perhaps we should return to the north? The hunting was good up there._

_Not yet. If the rumors are true, Eragon will have returned by now. We have to tell him what we know. It is their only shot and you know it._

_But they are just that; rumors. How do you know what you overheard in Ilirea is accurate? Remember those beggars by the Inn in Ceunon?_

Murtagh laughed. _The ones who said Eragon had been possessed by Galbatorix's soul and that he only left to recruit an army of Shades? How could I forget that?_

_You know what I mean. Granted, Eragon returning isn't as far-fetched but it is still unfounded in fact? What makes this any different?_

_The source…_

Murtagh thought back to when he had last seen her on the wall, framed by the sun in her beautiful dress.

_I won't argue. Do you think they will be happy to see us?_

_Eragon and Saphira might; the rest…enough time may not have passed._

_We should go soon; make another pass over Hedarth._

_Why not now? My stew needs to simmer anyway._

_I will come._

Murtagh stretched and belted on Zar'roc, throwing another log onto the wood. He picked up the last sprig of spring onion and put it in his mouth, chewing gingerly on the sprout. He walked to the mouth of the cave and walked out into the chilly early morning air. The cave sat high up in the Beor Mountains, overlooking a vast swath of dense forest very similar to the one he and Eragon had fled through on their way to Farthen Dur. To his left, some miles away, was valley where the Az Ragni flowed out of the Beors. To his right, the wide open plains that separated Hedarth from the mountain range. Below him, the Az Ragni roared along and flowed out into the open.

He sensed Thorn approaching and looked up, smiling as he watched the sunlight shining through Thorn's outstretched wings, throwing a wine red shadow over him, similar to the colored light in the beautiful painted windows that he loved in Uru'baen.

Thorn spiraled down and landed on the rock ledge beside Murtagh, his ivory talons scratching and grating the rock. Murtagh wasted no time in leaping onto Thorn's back. He held on tightly as Thorn leaped off the edge of the cliff, throwing open his wings. The membranes caught the air and he leveled out, flapping every so often to maintain speed. Thorn aligned himself with the river below him and followed it north, toward Hedarth.

The flight was a short one and, before long, Hedarth came into view, sprawled at the junction of the Edda and Az Ragni rivers. Beyond Hedarth, the sky was just beginning to clear of the dark clouds as the storm system continued on its warpath, leaving behind clear skies and fresh snow in its wake. Thorn swooped around to the east and managed to hide himself among the clouds and the patches of dense forest that bordered the river. He landed gently in the snow drifts hidden from view of Hedarth by the rolling hills. Murtagh glanced behind him as he dismounted and looked for signs of movement where the Edda River curved and disappeared into the foothills of the Beors. He knew from his maps that the Edda River flowed out into the ocean after following a convoluted route through the Beor Mountains and since that is the route Eragon took to leave Alagaesia, it made a decent starting point to start looking if he were to return.

_This storm will have slowed them down. Saphira would not be able to fly very far in that weather, especially in the confines of those ravines, _Thorn mused_. Are you sure they would return this way?_

_The other ship did, remember? I think it is the only lead we have to go on._

Murtagh looked about him along the forest floor and shook his head. _The storm obliterated any tracks there may have been._

He gripped the pommel of Zar'roc and chewed the inside of his lip as he wandered along the bank in knee-deep snow, lost in thought. He happened to glance across to the opposite side of the river and he stopped.

_Tracks. Lots of 'em._

_I'll be right back, _rumbled Thorn.

He took a running start and leaped mightily, spreading his wings and gliding across the river. He slowed and back flapped, careful to avoid obscuring the tracks on the bank and setting down heavily in the soft snow. Thorn snaked his head out in a wide arc, studying the tracks.

_Half a score of them at least, two sets of plate armor boots and the rest leather. Looks like dwarves and Elves._

_Eragon?_

_I think so. It has been a long since I have smelled his scent but I would feel confident in saying it is him. No dragon tracks though._

_She could have flown._

_No…I don't even smell her._

_We have to find Eragon, tell him what we know before…_

"Don't move."

Murtagh froze as he felt the point of a sword press lightly into his back. He had been so focused on his conversation with Thorn he had neglected to remain focused on his surroundings. From across the river, Thorn roared and leaped into the air, hurrying to Murtagh's aid.

"It is good to see you again…Brother." The sword point lifted from his back and Murtagh heard the tell-tale slither of metal that told him the sword was being sheathed.

Murtagh spun around.

Eragon grinned.

"Eragon!" Murtagh exclaimed and embraced him in a rough hug.

Eragon laughed, "Easy, don't break me."

Thorn slammed into the ground next to them, causing them to release each other.

Murtagh stood still as Thorn swung his head around and centered a great ruby eye on Eragon.

_We are well met once again, Eragon._

_Well met indeed, Thorn-finiarel._

Murtagh looked to the sky and tried to broach the subject as tactfully as possible.

"I don't see or sense Saphira nearby. Is she back in Hedarth?"

Eragon lowered his gaze and the pain in his face told Murtagh all he needed to know.

"She is missing."

Murtagh released his pent up breath. "I was afraid of that. We need to talk."

It took a large amount of cajoling on Eragon's part before the Dwarves relented and allowed Murtagh and Thorn to pass into Hedarth. The Dwarves still had not forgiven Murtagh for killing Hrothgar and refused to let the fact that he played an integral part in defeating Galbatorix to alleviate some of that anger. As it was, Eragon could make no headway in the argument until Orik, who had tried to avoid overruling his subjects to avoid hard-feelings, said, "Oei. Enough. We must compromise. Saphira is in trouble and we waste time arguing. He may enter but his Dragon must stay outside the gates."

When Eragon returned and told them what Orik had said, Murtagh nodded and suppressed his anger, "Agreed, we don't plan on staying anyway. Once we say what we have to say, we will leave."

He turned to Thorn and said, _Stay close. If they captured Saphira and Firnen they must be somewhere nearby, maybe even watching us._

_Guard yourself, _Thorn replied, humming deep in his chest and touching Murtagh on the shoulder with his nose.

Murtagh followed Eragon into the city and did his best to ignore the glares from the Dwarves they passed. He was grateful when Eragon finally led him into a large, stone building down by the docks and into a spacious room filled with soft furniture and a table laden with food.

"Help yourself to some food." Said Eragon, filling two mugs with wine and handing one to Murtagh.

"Thanks." Murtagh replied.

This was the first time since before he had been abducted by the Twins that he had spent any time truly alone with Eragon and it didn't feel the same. It felt…forced. Murtagh caught Eragon's eye and, by the way Eragon looked quickly away, he could tell that Eragon felt the same awkwardness.

_Too much bad history…_he thought.

"So, what do you know?"

Murtagh sighed and sat across from Eragon in one of the chairs.

"I think I might know what has been causing the disturbances throughout Alagaesia."

"How do you know about all of that? According to Arya, no one has seen or heard from since you disappeared."

"I would disguise myself and go into cities to get supplies. I eavesdrop on some people's minds for some information, otherwise I overhear conversations in the taverns or market."

Eragon nodded but remained silent. Murtagh took it as a cue to continue.

"Well, one afternoon I am in the tavern in Dras Leona while Thorn is off hunting and I see a hooded figure sitting at the end of the bar. No one else seemed to notice him and, indeed, I don't think I would have either if I hadn't accidentally bumped into him on my way to a table. I noticed a ring he wore on his left hand. It bore a symbol I didn't recognize but it must have been a glyph from the ancient language. I admit, Galbatorix didn't teach me much about the written form of the ancient language so I can't be sure, but it was so graceful and seemed to emanate a certain power of its own that it couldn't have been anything else. And, I had seen one like it once before…"

Murtagh flashed his eyes to the ring Eragon wore himself, the ring he had been given by Islanzadi; the ring that had belonged to Brom.

Eragon glanced down and removed the ring.

"Was it this glyph? The yawe?"

"No, but the ring was very similar. I would assume it was also a repository for energy. The man didn't look like much but he vibrated with power. I kept myself hidden but, I admit, I was curious so I followed him when he left. He nearly lost me among the crowds but I caught up to him as he entered an abandoned house near the edge of the city. I sidled up to the window and listened as he was talking to someone, reporting on all he had seen over the course of the day. Then he left but, this time, he wasn't alone. Another man, very tall with long dark hair and carrying a log book. He also had a ring, like the other one and like yours, but a different glyph. He kept his head turned talking to the other man so I couldn't clearly see his face but, when the wind rustled his hair, I saw he had pointed ears."

"An elf?" Eragon's brow furrowed in thought, shaking his head.

"I know, I wouldn't believe me either, but…"

"I believe you." Eragon said firmly, eager to keep Murtagh in a cooperative mood. "I just have to also believe there is a logical explanation. No elf would harm a dragon or abduct a dozen people, including members of their own race. It doesn't make sense."

"I followed them for a while but they eventually eluded me back in the market."

"What happened after?"

"I left Dras Leona. I told Thorn about what I had seen and heard and we both agreed it was odd so I kept an eye out in every city I visited and, sure enough, in every location there was a hooded man spying on the citizens. Taverns, shops, busy marketplaces, the docks even guard towers. They were everywhere, strategically placed but so inconspicuous that even if you did notice them you wouldn't think anything of it."

"I don't understand though. Why do you think this has something to do with Saphira's disappearance?"

"I don't…not for certain, anyway. After several dozen sightings in seven different cities I decided to check out some smaller villages to see if the spies were there as well. I figured it is easy to blend into a busy city but a smaller village would be more difficult as everyone knows everyone else and people are generally fairly tight-knit. Thorn hadn't even landed before we were attacked. It was a mental spike the likes of which even Galbatorix would have been hard pressed to defend. It wasn't even so much the raw power as much as it was precise, though it was very strong. I was lax in my defense and it took us both by surprise, a mistake I will never make again. We only escaped because Thorn had the wherewithal to maintain altitude and fly out of range."

"What village was this?"

"Therinsford."

Eragon moved to the edge of his seat. "That is very close to Carvahall…did you happen to visit there too?"

Murtagh shook his head. "After the attack we wanted to lie low, in case they gave chase. It was obvious they were very powerful and we couldn't chance it. We also ran afoul of a tribe of Urgals. Not life threatening but very inconvenient. Besides, I thought Carvahall was destroyed anyway."

"Arya told me Roran is rebuilding it."

"Your cousin?"

"And yours…he was made Earl of Palancar Valley after the war."

Murtagh lowered his gaze and said, "I'm sure he is fine."

Eragon nodded. "One problem at a time. I need to find Saphira."

"Tell me how she disappeared."

Murtagh remained silent while Eragon explained. He did his best to contain his thoughts as Eragon told him the details. Being in seclusion for so long, Murtagh found it difficult to stay in someone's company for an extended period of time. He began to get anxious but, as he listened to Eragon speak, he began to feel something different. Those old feelings of camaraderie he felt with Eragon when they were traveling together began to outweigh the anxiety. He found that he began to care about Eragon and Saphira again. He knew, deep down, those feelings never really went away and that he really had just been projecting his anger at Galbatorix onto Eragon but it still felt odd.

"Now, we are just preparing a few Feldunost so we can search for them. We will be leaving as soon as we gather supplies." Eragon finished his narrative with an exasperated sigh.

Murtagh could see how close Eragon was to loosing it and he could relate better than most. Nodding to himself as if he was talking himself into it, Murtagh said, "I know most people here hate me for what I have done and, to be honest, I hate myself for it. I can't change what I have done or even begin to make up for it but I would like to try."

"What are you saying?" Eragon asked. By the slight smile on his face, Murtagh guessed Eragon knew but he was going to make him say it.

"Thorn and I will help. You, me and Arya can cover more ground on Thorn's back than all of the Feldunost the Dwarves have."

Eragon's jaw dropped. "You want to take me and Arya out, alone and unguarded?"

Murtagh had to suppress his anger and he felt his cheeks redden. "Are you implying-"

Then Eragon laughed, "I would be honored, Brother."

Murtagh swore. "Don't do that." Despite himself he laughed, remembering how they would rib each other good naturedly. It had been a very long time since he had felt that kind of companionship and he had forgotten how good it felt, to be included and, dare he think it, cared for. If anyone could shake off the atrocities of Murtagh's past it would be Eragon. His ability to forgive and care was something Murtagh envied.

Murtagh stood as Eragon did and they hugged once more. Eragon said, "I will gather some food and Arya. We will meet you outside the city in the morning."

"Why wait?" Murtagh asked. Now that he had something to do, an important task that had meaning, he was excited. "Let's leave now."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 – A New Hope

The sun was blinding as they emerged from a cloud and into open sky. Thorn, despite their objections, found it pleasurable to fly through the clouds as it cooled him off from his exertions of flying all day. Droplets of water clung to his scales and refracted the sunlight, making it appear as if he emitted rainbows. The rest of them, however, found it remarkably uncomfortable to be soaked to the skin every time Thorn decided he needed to cool off. After the third time Thorn ignored their pleas, Arya cast a spell to shield them from the water.

"That should help." She said, a note of irritation in her voice.

_And to think, it only took three times to get the best and the brightest of your races to think of that spell…_ retorted Thorn. His reply was so unexpected, Eragon could only laugh and, eventually, Murtagh and Arya joined in. Thorn's large frame vibrated as he made a deep, rolling sound of mirth from within his chest.

Eragon sat in the middle of Thorn's saddle, Murtagh in front of him. Behind him, was Arya, clinging to him with an arm looped around his midsection. Every time Thorn flapped his giant, scarlet wings Eragon could feel Arya being pressed into his back by the motion. To his detriment, he liked the feel of her body against him. To distract himself, he let his mind wander back to his departure and Nala's farewell.

She had been upset that she wouldn't be able to go with him as there wasn't enough room on Thorn's saddle - indeed it was barely large enough for the three of them as it was - but she understood the urgency and that this would be their best bet. She had kissed him passionately before he left and Eragon sensed she was a bit concerned with his being in such close proximity to Arya but, if she was, she never said it aloud. When they parted, she hugged him tightly, laying her head on his shoulder. "Bring Saphira back."

A jostle brought him back to the present and he felt Arya cling to him tightly as Thorn banked to the left and executed a wide circle. Eragon berated himself for getting lost in his head when he was supposed to be focusing on finding Saphira. He immediately crashed through the barriers in his mind and threw his mind out in all directions to his limits. He was aware of Arya and Murtagh doing the same and he eliminated their minds from the scope of his searching. He could feel numerous animals and insects and plant life but nothing bigger than the cave bears hibernating peacefully in their dens. Off in the distance, he saw several Fanghurs gliding on the wind currents, giving Thorn a rather wide berth.

_Those could be good hunting…_ rumbled Thorn, sending them all an image of him tearing apart a Fanghur with his teeth and claws.

_That would be more difficult than you think. Saphira can tell you all about it when we find her._ Eragon said.

Thorn exhaled sharply through his nose, surrounding them all in a puff of smoke. _I shall hold her to it._

Eragon heard Murtagh chuckle and smiled to himself. The fact Thorn and Murtagh both were including them in their jokes and conversations without being prompted boded well for their re-institution into the company of others. It heartened Eragon to think that they could overcome the enormous atrocities put upon them and emerge out the other side at least somewhat intact. He knew their self-imposed exile was necessary for their healing process but he sincerely hoped it had been long enough for them to come back into the open as one of the good guys. They had an extraordinary amount of power and skill and could help out Nasuada, Orik and Arya immensely.

"We have been out all day and have found nothing. Are you sure they were heading in this direction?" Murtagh asked.

"Yes, Firnen wanted to explore this part of the mountains. See that bend in the river? That is roughly where we were when they found us and headed this way. Just make a few more passes and, if we still don't find anything, we will make camp and try again tomorrow."

Murtagh nodded in response and Thorn grunted, angling to the south once more and expanding their search grid for another pass.

Eragon felt a nudge on his mind and recognized Arya's touch.

_Eragon, what if they are sedated, like I was during my imprisonment in Gil'ead? We may not be able to feel their minds if they are drugged and put into a forced sleep, like a spell. We could have flown over them several times and not know it._

He had not thought of that before, though it made so much sense he wished he had. _We have to hope that isn't the case. It would take us years to search this whole area on foot._

_Aye, maybe we should split up. Thorn and Murtagh and can search in the air and we can search on the ground. What do you think?_

_That may not be the best idea right now. If one of us gets into trouble, the other wouldn't be able to help and the perpetrators are likely very strong. Let's give it a little more time and, if we don't find anything before dark, we will try that tomorrow._

_Agreed. _Due to their intimate link, he could tell she was disappointed but he decided it was because she was just anxious to find Firnen. She withdrew from the contact and resumed her search, as did Eragon.

They flew for another few hours until, long after the sun was hidden by the mountains, the sky darkened and the stars emerged. Thorn landed on a cliff face that was spacious enough for him to stand with his wings outstretched with plenty of room to spare and even had a natural overhang to guard against precipitation or falling snow and ice from above. Working quickly, Murtagh created a makeshift fire pit, a simple circle on the ground with small rocks for a fire while Eragon and Arya removed Thorns saddle so he could stretch.

"I'll go grab some fire wood."

"No need." said Eragon. In answer to his questioning stare, Eragon pointed to the ground at his feet and said, "Vöndr, rïsa fra undir un waise gathí pömnuria lam." Wood, rise from below and be united by my hand.

There came the sound of rustling and wood bumping off of stone as many pieces of wood rose from the forest floor below them and piled neatly at Eragon's feet. When the last piece of wood settled on the pile, Eragon released the flow of magic.

"Show off." muttered Murtagh as he began to organize the wood in the fire pit. Eragon grinned and joined Arya as they unpacked the bedrolls and the food for their dinner. Before long, Murtagh turned away from the roaring fire and sat on his bedroll, accepting a piece of bread and cheese from Eragon.

All of them, lost in their own thoughts, ate in a silence that was broken only when Thorn lie down next to Murtagh. Eragon couldn't help but feel his initial excitement at finally being out searching for Saphira diminish a little. He wasn't sure what he expected but he had hoped to find her and get back to their business by dinner time.

"I don't really understand something." stated Murtagh flatly.

"You might have to be more specific; I'm betting you don't understand lots of things." Eragon said with a grin.

Thorn made a rumbling noise but it wasn't a growl; it was laughter. _I like him._

"Thanks for having my back, Thorn." said Murtagh sarcastically.

_Always. _Thorn replied, followed by more rolling laughter.

"What I mean," continued Murtagh, "is that, by your own account, you hadn't even really "arrived" back yet. How did they know you were coming back? And how did they know where you were?"

"How did you know?" Eragon countered.

"I…overheard…Nasuada telling one of her servants to gather the kidnapping victims to await interrogation, after Arya left. She said, 'they want to talk to them.' Not, 'her' or 'he'…'they'. I also knew that your ship and some Elves returned a few weeks ago through the same channel and I made the intuitive leap."

"You spied on Nasuada?"

"Yes. Well, scried her. I like to check in from time to time…" Murtagh replied sheepishly, turning his gaze to the crackling fire.

Eragon though for a moment before he said, "Then I think that, if the kidnappers who took all of those people are the ones responsible for Saphira's and Firnen's disappearance, it is reasonable to assume the culprits spied as well. Did you see anyone else in Ilirea who looked suspicious?"

Murtagh thought back but his memories were filled with her; her beautiful dress, her gleaming skin, her brilliantly white teeth, her almond-shaped eyes…

He snapped out of it and shook his head. "No, I saw no one else. Just all of those hooded people in the other cities. I never saw any of them in Ilirea when I passed through, although, it wasn't until after I visited Dras Leona that I started searching for them and I didn't stop in Ilirea before I made my way back north. It is possible they were there and I missed them."

"Makes sense that they would be." chimed in Arya. "If they are spying in every other city, why wouldn't they spy on the capital? When we were in Hedarth, I contacted my sentinels in Ellesmera and they reported no such people within our cities."

"There must be though," said Murtagh, "in the Dwarven cities and Urgal villages, too."

"A man would stick out in a Dwarven city or Urgal village though." The answer popped into Eragon's head even as he spoke, but Arya beat him to it.

"The only logical explanation is that we have traitors in our midst. Someone has been informing the enemy on our movements and we have no idea how far up the command chain this goes."

"We don't even know who the enemies are. We know nothing…" said Eragon, biting back a curse.

Silence pervaded the camp again until the wee hours of the morning when Murtagh said, "I must sleep. Wake me when it is my turn for watch."

"I'll keep watch," Eragon said, "I don't sleep anyway."

"Nor do I." said Arya.

"Well, glad I'm still human enough to enjoy a good nap. See you in the morning."

With that, Murtagh drew his blanket up to his shoulder, rolled over so his back was to the fire and promptly fell into slumber. Eragon adjusted his position so his legs were crossed in front of him and closed his eyes, letting his muscles relax.

"It's easier to keep watch with your eyes open." prodded Arya jokingly.

Eragon flashed a grin and ignored her jibe and focused his energy on his surroundings. From where he was seated, he let his mind wander out slowly. He lightly touched Murtagh, Thorn and Arya, and then kept going in all directions. He welcomed the trees, plants, animals and insects into his being, absorbing all he could from everything he could. In a matter of minutes, for he had become quite proficient at his meditation, he attainted his sublime state being. Simultaneously, he could feel the wind rushing through the leaves – _his_ leaves – of an elm, on a branch of that same tree he could see through the eyes of an owl as it honed in on its dinner and hooted into the night, he could feel the crunch of the bark beneath his powerful talons. He felt the panic of the owl's target on the ground, a small wood mouse. He felt the life of the wood mouse be extinguished as the nocturnal hunter proved too quick for his tiny paws. Normally, being a part of the mind of another when they die is an excruciating experience, as he knew first hand, but his state of peace had become so profound that he was able to ignore it and keep his mental watch.

He watched everything for nearly an hour when he became aware of a new source of power. He couldn't be certain but he thought there was more energy in this new source than any he had ever felt before, including all the energy at Galbatorix's disposal. The source was so foreign and alien to him it wasn't until he realized it was coming from right beside him that he knew what it had to be.

_The fire!_ His realization brought him out of his meditative state and he snapped back to awareness of his own body. So much energy was stored in the fire he couldn't believe he had never felt it before.

"Eragon? What is wrong?" Arya whispered, noticing his agitation.

"The fire." He said.

"What about it?"

"It has energy inside of it." Unbidden, a conversation he had with Oromis came back to him. He was I Oromis' hut and they were talking about the source of Galbatorix's power. Eragon remembered asking about taking energy from sources where it already existed, like from a fire, the environment or the atmosphere. He remembered what Oromis had said and repeated the words, out loud, to Arya.

"If we could, we could destroy Galbatorix in an instant. Reason says that it can be done but so far no one has been able to devise a way to do so."

Arya looked at him questioningly and it appeared like she was about to ask him a question but then her eyes widened. "Did you?"

"Not quite but I think I can." He said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I think I can access that energy."

"Oh Eragon! You mustn't, not yet!"

"But why? If I can figure it out, we could use that energy to help with finding Saphira and Firnen!"

"It isn't that simple." She said. She looked at the ground, her eyes roving back and forth wildly as if she were searching for the right words. She appeared to find them and then said, "It has been attempted once before. A group of elves, long ago when we were still young in magic, found that if they directed their minds at something like fire they could sense the pure energy stored within. They tried to breach that energy and a terrible explosion blew them and everyone within several leagues apart. The energy in that form is very unstable and no one since has tried it. Did not Oromis tell you this?"

"No, he didn't mention that. He must have trusted that I wouldn't try it on my own." He adjusted his position to unfurl his cramped legs when his hand brushed against the pommel of Brisingr.

"That might work…" He picked up the sword and fingered the sapphire. "What if I don't breach the energy but try to transfer it to the gem stone? It shouldn't disrupt the natural state of the fire and, therefore, shouldn't explode."

Arya appeared apprehensive. "I don't know…it still seems dangerous."

"I can place wards around us to protect us all if this goes badly, like I did when Galbatorix died."

_This must wait, youngling._ Said Umaroth. Eragon had almost forgotten the Eldunari were still with them.

_But Umaroth-elda, this energy could be the key to our survival against this unknown menace. They have kidnapped so many people and even our dragons, my partner-of-heart-and-mind. Shouldn't I do anything and everything I can possibly do to help me find her?_

Then, for only the third time since they had met, Valdr, the oldest dragon of them all, spoke and said, _Let him try it. I have seen what he sees and it is possible. We will protect and aid him._

An image passed to them all then of tiny specks, moving so fast it was difficult to focus on any one of them for more than a split second. The old dragon withdrew and Eragon was confused but the Eldunari seemed to understand.

_Very well. Cast the wards and be quick about it. Be it on your head if you fail._ Said Umaroth.

Using the name of the ancient language, Eragon cast the wards around him, Arya, Murtagh and Thorn, bypassing any existing wards they may have placed on themselves to prevent unwanted magic being cast on them.

_Let me into your thoughts, Eragon. I will guide you and help where I can. _Said Glaedr.

_As will I._ chimed in Arya.

Eragon opened his mind and the three of them melded together until they were nearly unidentifiable as separate entities. Then, Eragon directed their focus to the fire. Now that he knew what to look for, it was easy to find. The fire shimmered and crackled and, thus, Eragon was aware that the crackling was the rapid heating of water within the wood. He also became aware that the blue part of the flame was by far the hottest.

_Focus, Eragon. Pick a spot and focus._

Since the blue part of the flames stood out visually and in his mind, Eragon decided that was as good a place as any to start. He focused intensely on it and wasn't quite sure what to do next. He decided he needed to get closer and, almost instinctually, he began to zoom in, magnifying their vision. Before long, he was aware of tiny specks of matter zooming about so fast he could only make out the glowing trails they left behind, just like the image Valdr had shared with them. He sensed that those specks were where the energy was stored and he needed a way to get the energy out. He tried to focus on one of the specks but it was moving too quickly. Again and again he tried to grab one with his mind but it always eluded him.

_Let the atoms come to you._ Glaedr said. _But be prepared._

_Prepared for what?_

_For whatever happens. The story Arya told you should provide a clue as to what will happen if you aren't careful._

Eragon decided to err on the side of caution and found the small store of energy already within the sapphire on his sword, including it in his focus. In his mind, he imagined two small windows, one was the atoms zooming around faster than the eye could follow and the other was the sapphire, shimmering with energy. Again, he tried to focus on the atoms to find an individual one to study but, again, they were moving too fast. He became frustrated and, with his mind, shouted, _Stop!_

And that is what they did.

The atoms froze in their movement and he was able to focus on them for the first time. He had to zoom in farther to get a better look and, when he did so, he found that the atoms were encased in thin membranes. He gently pressed against one and saw that the energy was right behind that membrane, bubbling with intensity and almost begging to be used and released. He pressed a little harder when Glaedr and Arya both said, _Careful!_

_This is difficult enough without being scrutinized and yelled at._ He said, willing his heart to slow down.

_Be sure to break the membrane slowly and direct the energy surge into the sapphire._ Glaedr said unperturbed.

Eragon mentally shifted the sapphire until he imagined it was pressing against the membrane of the atom. Eragon took a steadying breath and said, _Here we go._

He exerted more pressure until, with a sound like a thunderclap, the energy burst out of the atom and straight into the sapphire. With just that one atom, the sapphire became completely saturated with energy. The only problem was, there was still more energy in the atom and that energy, having to go somewhere now that it wasn't contained within the atom, exploded all around them, manifesting itself in flames. The angry fire engulfed the lot of them, charring the stone and sending sparks and wood pieces in all directions. Eragon was thankful he had chosen to deflect the energy instead of block it directly because, as it was, the drain on him was immense. The Eldunari fueled his wards hastily to protect them and then, after another split second, the event was over.

Eragon fell to his side, panting and sweating; the effort was more than he anticipated. Thorn and Murtagh were jerked awake with a roar and a yell.

Arya moved beside Eragon with concern on her face, edging around the remains of the fire.

"I told you to be careful!" She growled.

"What happened?" exclaimed Murtagh. Eragon glanced at him and had to bite back a laugh. Murtagh, as well as Arya and himself, were covered head to toe in black soot.

"Eragon decided to experiment and nearly killed us all!" Arya said. Her tone was one of worry more than anger. Eragon sat upright, helped by Arya.

"But it worked. I did it."

"Then why the explosion?" asked Murtagh.

"The sapphire wasn't big enough to take all of the energy from the atom. The leftover is what caused the explosion; I guess it had to go somewhere." Eragon said to Arya with glee, ignoring Murtagh.

"Will someone please tell me what just happened?!" Murtagh asked again.

Eragon explained his discovery and what had transpired. When he finished, Murtagh whistled, "Unbelievable."

"And now that I know how to do it and what to expect, we can saturate all of our repositories and have access to an unlimited supply of energy!"

Eragon smiled at Arya and she smiled back, her teeth brilliantly white in contrast to dark soot on her face.

"We may not know who the enemy is, where they are or what they want but now we know something that they do not and that gives us an advantage."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 - Enemies Revealed

The four of them were too excited to get any rest for the remainder of the night. Eragon spent as much time as he could explaining the process of what he had done, eager to share his experience.

"As long as the receptacle is able to take the full amount of energy, it should be perfectly safe." He concluded.

"I can't deny the magnitude of your discovery but it seems impractical to do unless you have the time to concentrate. More often than not, we would end up being at the mercy of our opponent while we attempt to perform the procedure. If we could figure out a way to streamline the process…either that or stud all of our equipment and clothes with gem stones but that would look ridiculous." Murtagh mused aloud.

"Give me time to work on it; I will try to devise a way to make it more efficient." Swore Eragon.

"But that must wait," Arya said, "for the night is over and the day has begun and we need to find our Dragons."

Thorn stood and stretched, yawning widely. _After today, I will need to eat._

Murtagh busied himself with the saddle while Eragon and Arya collected their belongings. When Eragon made to get into the saddle behind Murtagh, Arya said, "Eragon, did you forget what we talked about yesterday?"

"What did you talk about?" Murtagh asked.

Eragon had hoped Arya would change her mind but it seemed she did not and the tone of her voice told him it would be a bad idea to renege on his word. Cursing his luck, he said, "We decided it might be best to split up; you and Thorn can search from the air while Arya and I search for tracks on the ground."

"I don't know if that is a good idea." Murtagh stated.

"We can't see the ground from the air and, unless the kidnappers are able to fly as well, there are likely to be tracks that would go unseen from up above. We may not be able to cover as large an area but we can be more thorough in our search." Arya said.

"As you wish, Your Majesty." Murtagh sighed. "You can leave your bags tied to the saddle; they will only weigh you down."

Eragon and Arya belted on their swords and secured their bows to their quivers. They both leapt into the saddle and held on tightly as Thorn plummeted towards the ground from their aerie, soaring on his massive wings. Once on the ground, Arya slid out of the saddle first. Eragon swung his leg over and before he could descend, Murtagh turned in the saddle.

"Be careful, brother. Thorn and I will sweep further to the south and circle back. I'll check in on you before we head out again."

"Thank you." Eragon clasped Murtagh's shoulder and then jumped to the ground.

Eragon and Arya shielded their eyes as Thorn flapped his wings hard and took flight once again, bugling his farewell into the sky.

"Shall we?" asked Arya.

"Lead the way, your worshipfulness." jibed Eragon.

The day passed slowly and Eragon, despite growing ever more frustrated with the tedium, kept his thoughts to himself and wisely so. Arya appeared to be growing more and more anxious as the hours passed as well and he had no desire to anger her; both of their tempers were quite frayed. As is expected, his mind began to wander and his thoughts focused on something that was familiar: Arya.

His new relationship with Nala was still new and exciting but he was confused to realize he felt a small amount of guilt. He and Arya were never a couple but it still felt like he was betraying her. He was considering telling her about Nala thinking it would be better if she heard it from him but, whenever he tried to broach the subject, he couldn't follow through.

"Coward." he muttered softly.

"Eragon?" called Arya.

Without realizing it, Eragon had wandered out of her line of sight, lost in his thoughts.

"Over here." he called back.

Arya emerged from the underbrush, gesturing behind her. "Couldn't find anything over there. It looks like there is a sheer cliff face just beyond this bend so I think we should head back toward the west."

She looked at him. "Are you alright?"

Eragon nodded. "I'm fine." As he looked back at her, he could see she didn't believe him. He sighed and said, "Actually, no. Something has been bothering me. Arya, I-"

He was interrupted by a mental probe he recognized as Murtagh. _Any luck?_

_None at all…in more ways than one._ Eragon said.

_What do you mean?_

_I'll explain later. Arya and I are heading back out to the west and will angle slightly north until we hit the river again. I think I remember seeing some caves up in that area; might be worth checking out._

_We will head further to the north and circle back to the southwest and meet you there. See you in a few hours._ Murtagh replied and severed the link.

"Sorry," Eragon said, returning his attention to Arya. "Murtagh will meet us at the river, near those caves we saw earlier yesterday."

She nodded sharply and resumed walking. Eragon breathed a soft sigh of relief, thinking she had forgotten about their conversation. They hadn't been walking for long when Arya said, "So what were you going to tell me back there?"

Eragon cursed his luck. _Better get this over with,_ he thought.

"It's kind of…well it's…it's personal but you deserve to know. I'd rather you hear it from me than-"

"Ah, I was wondering how long it would take you to tell me." She said without looking back.

Eragon lost his nerve then. "What do-"

Arya stopped and turned to face him, her face an expressionless mask. "I saw you on the ship." She studied his face with knowing eyes.

"Arya-"

"It's ok, Eragon. I understand." She maintained eye contact with him a moment longer then turned her back to him and kept walking.

Eragon's stood dumbstruck. She didn't explode or get mad at him like he expected. In fact, she seemed to be remarkably okay with the situation. Steeling himself, he exhaled, "That went well." Then he hurried to catch up.

A few hours later, Eragon and Arya emerged from the thick underbrush sore and exhausted. In front of them, the Edda River roared along towards the ocean. About seven leagues to the north was the junction of the Edda and Az Ragni rivers and Hedarth. On their left were the pseudo-mountains of the Beors; foothills that weren't quite big enough to be mountains but still technically a part of the mountain range. Littered among them was an eternal labyrinth of cave systems that interconnected with each other. It wasn't where the dragons had disappeared but it was the best place within leagues to hide two fearsome beasts and remain undetected. Despite his exhaustion, Eragon felt good about the caves. They wouldn't be able to search all of them but there would definitely be some signs of habitation if the dragons and the perpetrators were there.

Eragon looked skyward but saw no sign of Thorn. "This is roughly where Murtagh said he would meet us so I guess we should wait here for him. I could use a drink and a rest anyway."

"Roughly?" Arya queried, raising an eyebrow.

"My sense of direction isn't as good as Saphira's." He shrugged, choosing a rock to sit on and drinking from his canteen. He extended it to Arya who refused it, choosing a rock of her own some feet away. Eragon couldn't help but notice how she much she had been getting close to him ever since their reunion but, now, she was keeping him at a distance.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine, I'll be better when this is over." She said flatly.

"I know. I can't wait to get Saphira back. I –"

"That's not what I meant!" She said.

Eragon snapped his head up to look at her, feeling slightly afraid. "What did you mean?"

She looked angrier than Eragon ever remembered seeing her. In an instant, he realized what she was talking about. "You said you were ok and that you understood though, right?"

She took a deep breath and fought back her emotions with extreme effort. Her hands were visibly shaking and her cheeks were flushed crimson. When she spoke, her voice was thick and trembled with restrained feeling. "I am. I'm sorry, I don't know why I snapped at you."

"You're mad at me." Eragon said. It wasn't a question. "Arya, I wanted…you turned me down three times. I didn't know if I would ever see you again."

"I know…I know it is all my fault."

"That is not what I meant."

"Yes it is and you are correct. I don't know what I thought would happen between us. When I found out you were coming back, in my head, I imagined it was because you wanted to see me again. I imagined it so much that I eventually started to believe it." She squared her shoulders to him and in her face Eragon saw so much hurt and sadness it physically hurt him. Her lower lip trembled slightly as she continued. "Honestly, I am ok and I will continue to be. We have a lot to accomplish before this whole unfortunate situation comes to a conclusion and we should make the best of it."

With an apparent supreme force of will she resumed her normal expressionless countenance. "I think I hear Thorn approaching. We have too much ground to cover and not enough time; we should get moving."

Eragon was about to apologize and beg her to forgive him but, before he could get out the words, a clear, cold voice said, "Apologizing won't do any good, Eragon, son of Brom. You really should have come clean earlier, I think."

Eragon spun around and above them on a piece of rock that jutted out of the snowy ground stood a tall figure. He was framed by the setting sun peeking through a gap in the mountains and his long hair and brown cloak billowed behind him in the breeze. His pointed ears poked out from under his hair and his skin seemed to shine in the sunlight. He stared at them with historical eyes and he smiled warmly but, hidden in that warmth, Eragon sensed a terrible menace. At the elf's side was sheathed a long sabre. Eragon was glad to see the weapon wasn't drawn but quickly drew his own. Brisingr felt comfortable in his hand and made him feel safe. Arya drew her weapon as well and took a spot by his side, their argument forgotten.

"You've heard the expression 'there is no fury like that of a woman scorned'. I imagine it would go doubly so for the Queen of the Elves and a master of magic."

"Who are you? How do you know our names?" Arya challenged. "As Queen of the Elves I demand answers!"

"Answers you will get, your majesty. But it will have to wait. You see, Thorn and Murtagh are indeed close and this will go more smoothly for all of us if you come quietly."

The enigmatic elf snapped his fingers and invisible forces tugged the weapons out of Eragon's and Arya's hands. Eragon instinctively tried to move his arm to aim a grab at the falling blade but found he was unable to.

"How are you doing this?" Eragon asked, suddenly afraid. He sent out a mental probe at the stranger but, not only could he find no defenses to penetrate, he couldn't sense the elf at all.

"Surprised? How is it that the Head of the Order of Riders does not understand even the basic concept of magic and energy or how it works? In my day we probably would have left someone like you to die shortly after birth."

Anger swelled in Eragon and he shouted, "Release me and we will see who is truly the weak one of us."

The elf laughed, "My money would be on her." He gestured to Arya. "She presents as a strong, confident woman but, deep down, she still deals with the same feelings as everyone else. We all do, of course, but my people are more adept at controlling it than even she is. Queen of Elves? Bah! She is nothing but a little girl who got in over her head and wanted you to save her from the mediocre tedium that, ironically, she chose over you in the first place." The elf's smile deepened in glee at Arya's pain and Eragon's bewilderment.

"I am your Queen and you will do as I say! Release us at once!" Arya bellowed.

"You are not my Queen! I answer to no authority for there is none greater than I. You elves would not be possible without the courageous sacrifice of my people so, when you really think about it, you should answer to me! Now let's go!"

Several more figures emerged from behind him and grabbed Eragon and Arya. In desperation, Eragon reached for his magic.

"That would be a very bad idea, Eragon." Said the elf.

_He can read my thoughts!_ Eragon thought.

"My, you are slow. Arya figured that out much quicker than you did, haha!" The elf turned and began to walk up toward the caves. Helpless, Eragon and Arya were carried up after him by his followers, all of them elves. Furious, Eragon yelled, "At least tell us your name! I want to know who it is I will be killing."

The elf didn't break stride but laughed heartily, "You might be slow but you are funny! You want to know my name? Fine. My name is Arngeir, sole heir to Belanor, King of the Addr-kyn. Though, you may know us as the Grár-kyn."

Arya gasped, "But the Grey Folk died millennia ago!'

"Most of us but not all. Come now, we have much to do!" called Arngeir cheerfully.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 - Arngeir

Roran pulled mightily on reigns to get Snowfire to come to a stop. He had been riding for several days and he was very sore and irritable. Behind him, Albreich, Baldor and Mandel reigned in their horses as well. Riding in the cold was bad enough; riding in the cold with bitter wind and driving snow was worse, a sentiment shared by the horses as well as their riders. The storm had been raging for a full day and night and showed no signs of stopping. Their dwarf guide, Jarvek of the clan Ingeitum, swore beneath his frosty beard. "Barzul! This is the second storm in as many days, Stronghammer. My mother always told me it was a bad omen to have storms piggyback on each other like this. Trouble is coming, mark my words."

Roran didn't respond but merely nodded. He was too tired from the events of the past two weeks to really listen to what Jarvek was saying anyway. Two days after Arya left Carvahall, Nasuada sent another message to Roran through Connor, his magician, saying that Eragon would be arriving in Hedarth and, if he so wished, he could join the welcoming party in Ilirea.

He had wanted to come alone but, upon hearing of his departure, Albreich and Baldor insisted they be allowed to come along as his guards. Not one to be left out of anything, Mandel invited himself along as well. Fearing they would draw too much attention, Roran forbade anyone else from joining him and gave explicit orders for everyone else to remain where they were. Their trek was made all the more interesting by the addition of Jarvek, an envoy of King Orik's who was making his way to Ilirea from Kuasta. From what Roran knew of him, Jarvek was a magician as well as an official ambassador. He was very strong but he lacked the nuance of his arcane art and didn't seem to know very much of the ancient language. Roran had initially thought it strange that an Ambassador would be allowed to travel the land alone but the reason why soon became very clear. Jarvek was afflicted by what Garrow used to call the 'gift of gab', muttering random nonsense to anyone who would listen or even just to himself as they rode. On only the second day out, Albreich tore out strips of linen from a spare bandage in his bag and stuffed them into his ears, blissfully unaware that Jarvek was animatedly telling him about his aunt, Magda, whose favorite color was turquoise and only had three fingers on her left hand due to an accident involving a sharp knife and lack of depth perception.

They made their way south following roads wherever possible though, after several feet of deep snow had fallen during the last two storms, the road soon became impossible to follow because they couldn't even find it. In some places, the snow reached all the way up to their thighs from their perch in the saddles. Because of this, Jarvek was forced to ride in the trenches created by Snowfire and the other horses otherwise Jarvek's pony would have been completely submerged in the snow. For the third time in as many hours, Roran asked, "Jarvek, would it be possible to melt the snow in our path with a spell?" Roran knew full well it was possible as he had seen Arya do it when she visited Carvahall.

"Oh, Master Stronghammer, sure it is possible but not very practical energy-wise." He tapped the side of his nose with a small, thick finger. "Fear not; if my maps are correct, and I assure you they are, we are only two days removed from our destination. Our time together is almost at an end. Quite sad when you think about it…did I ever tell you boys about mine third cousin on mine mother's side who…" Roran grunted and stopped listening, instead focusing out on the path ahead of them. Jarvek's prediction proved to be right as, before dusk that night the road began to take form, chewed up by the repeated passing of wagons and horses. The going became easier although Jarvek continued his incessant ranting. It wasn't until late that night after they made camp that Jarvek stopped talking, though it was only because he fell asleep by the fire.

"Finally," breathed Mandel.

"Yes, I didn't know it was possible to fall asleep in mid-sentence." Said Baldor.

They all laughed and settled down to enjoy the quiet. That is, until Jarvek began to snore.

The next day went by very quickly as the going became easier and they arrived at Ilirea just before sunset. Roran was given a hero's welcome and even Nasuada personally came down to greet him. With her was Jormunder and Angela the Herbalist with the werecat Solembum, in the form of the shaggy-haired little boy, by their side.

"Welcome, Stronghammer!" Jormunder clasped Roran's forearm in a hearty shake.

"It is good to see you again, Jormunder. How is the family?"

"Very well thanks to you and your cousin, Stronghammer." Replied Jormunder before Roran was swept forward to stand in front of Nasuada. He knelt and bowed as his head, as did Albreich, Baldor, Mandel and Jarvek. Roran had to suppress a smile as Jarvek could be heard whispering into his beard.

"Rise, Roran Stronghammer, Earl of Palancar Valley. Welcome back to Ilirea." Nasuada said regally.

"Thank you, your majesty." Roran said, rising. "Have you heard anything from-?"

"Later," mouthed Nasuada, indicating all the people.

Nasuada then greeted his companions, welcoming them all and ordering that their horses be brought to the stables and food and drink be prepared for them. As the crowd dispersed, Nasuada caught Roran's arm. "I know you are very tired and probably desire nothing more than a warm bed and a good night's sleep but I wondered if you might be willing to meet me later this evening?"

"Of course, Queen Nasuada. It would be my honor."

"Excellent! Please, get some food first. Meet me on top of the wall two hours after sunset."

Roran bowed and joined his friends for dinner, happy their traveling was over for now. After he had his fill of food and drink, he was escorted to his own rooms within Nasuada's palace where he was able to bathe in hot water and change into clothes appropriate for a meeting with the Queen. Worried about being late, he left for the wall top. As he walked through the city, people would stop and bow, or simply salute and call out "Stronghammer!" He made it to the wall and saw he was quite early so he chose a spot by the battlements and enjoyed the solitude. He looked out over the wall, impressed by how much had changed since the war with Galbatorix; there were estates and farms laid out all over the land spreading outward from Ilirea, denoted by pinpricks of light from lanterns or fires. Along the wall, the sentries strode along on their watches, backs straight and their eyes focused outward. They greeted him quietly as they passed with nothing more than a slight bow and continued on.

"Roran!" Nasuada called from the stone steps that led up to the wall.

"My Queen." Roran bowed as she approached.

"Roran, we are in private now. You can just call me Nasuada." She said, smiling.

"Of course," Roran said. "My day is so full of official business now it has sort of become a habit. I'm sure it is the same but ten-fold for you."

Nasuada laughed, "Indeed it is. Come, walk with me."

They walked along quietly until Nasuada said, "I did not want to say anything in front of all of those people but it appears there has been some trouble in Hedarth."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I don't know the whole story but what I do know isn't good," she paused long enough to stop walking and face him. "Something happened to Saphira and Firnen and Eragon, Arya, Murtagh and Thorn have gone looking for them. Before you ask, I don't know what exactly. Arya was supposed to contact me after Eragon arrived in Hedarth and before they left to come here. She never did. Instead, I contacted the dwarves and they told me what I just told you. That is all we know right now but, I promise, as soon as we hear more I will let you know personally."

"Thank you," Roran said, his mind racing. "How far is it to Hedarth?"

"No, I cannot allow that."

"Why?"

"Because we don't yet know what we are dealing with. First all of those disappearances and now Saphira and Firnen are missing. Something is happening, something really bad, and I cannot allow you to traipse off on a rescue mission. If Saphira and Firnen were overpowered, how do you think you would fare?"

Roran nodded and snapped, "Fine." He spoke a little harsher than he intended; he knew Nasuada only had his best interests at heart and, if he had to be honest with himself, he would probably have given the same orders. Nasuada placed a hand on his shoulder, "I miss them too and believe me I want to ride out to their rescue just as much as you do. But we have to wait. We have to know more about what we are dealing with before we act."

"This is like Galbatorix all over again," Roran said, "I thought we were done living in fear. I thought we were past all of this."

"As did I," Nasuada sighed.

"So what do we do?"

"As I said, we cannot act until we have more information. So for now, we wait."

Roran kept his eyes down and stared at a spot on the ground, his mind racing with scenarios ranging from rescue to full-scale assault. He wanted only to act, to be reunited with Eragon though he knew Nasuada was right. And he hated it. Robbed of the ability to act he began to consider other moves they could make to help better their position. For once, he wanted to be on the side with the advantage.

"Arya said that all of the people who were kidnapped were returned, unharmed. Where are they all now?"

"They are here in the castle awaiting Eragon and Arya's return. Arya wanted to interrogate them and examine their minds for clues. Though that information should stay between us."

"Of course." Roran said. "Can I speak to them?"

Nasuada looked apprehensive. "I have interrogated them thoroughly as have several of my lieutenants. There is nothing more we can learn from them without the ability to read their minds or without Eragon or Arya's knowledge of magic and the ancient language."

"Even so, and please understand this isn't a criticism of your abilities or intellect, I would still like to question them. Perhaps a fresh set of eyes and ears can yield something new, something we can use."

Nasuada studied his face, "No insult was taken, Roran. I can see this is important to you and maybe you are right. You have proven in the past you can succeed where others fail. Perhaps this will be one of those instances. I will arrange for you to meet with them tomorrow."

"Thank you."

They talked for a while more about nothing of consequence, just enjoying a conversation with each other as people, as equals, without the awkwardness that their elevated stations induced in others. After an hour, Nasuada bade Roran good night and departed, leaving him alone on the wall. Roran made his way back to his room making a mental list of the questions he wanted to ask the victims the next day. He thought of Katrina and Ismira and how much he missed them. Then he thought of Eragon and wished him well, wherever he may be, before sleep took him and he was lost in the realm of dreams.

In the Beor Mountains, at about that exact moment, the strip of cloth tied tightly over Eragon's eyes was being roughly ripped away by a pale hand. Something hit the back of his knees and his legs buckled, forcing him to kneel. He looked around in an attempt to get his bearings and noticed they were in a large cave littered with enormous stalactites and stalagmites. The only color that stuck out in the gloom was the glittering scales of Saphira and Firnen who were subdued by heavy iron chains.

_Saphira!_

Instinctively, he tried to contact her with his mind but he could not feel her. In fact, he realized he couldn't sense the minds of anyone else in the cave. He glanced to his right and saw Arya being forced to his knees at his side. Their hands were tied behind their back with a rope that when Eragon looked at it seemed to emit a faint blue glow. He tried again to contact Saphira or even Arya with his mind but he hit a wall that had been put up around his consciousness.

"Maybe you want to try to contact Glaedr, Umaroth and the other Eldunari next?" Arngeir's cold voice echoed powerfully around the chamber making Eragon feel small and helpless.

"Yes, I know all about them although I am impressed you were able to cast that spell so effectively. While I cannot directly affect them because of it I can still suppress your mind enough to make contact with them impossible. Besides, we have much to talk about and privacy is a virtue I covet. In fact…" he snapped his fingers and the sound of many shuffling feet paraded behind Eragon. He saw in his periphery that there were about two dozen hooded figures wearing voluminous brown-hued cloaks.

"I can see many questions biting at your tongue, Eragon. Please, I encourage inquiry; it is the only way to learn that which you do not know. Have no fear, I will not lie to you."

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Eragon asked incredulously. He glanced sideways at Arya and she shrugged, never taking her eyes from Firnen. The two dragons snarled and struggled against their bonds but received only gashes where the chains bit into their flesh, their blood steaming against the cold air as it pooled under them.

"Stop, please." Eragon pleaded, scared that they would hurt themselves badly when it was clearly a vain attempt to escape. Saphira snorted angrily but stopped struggling. A moment later, Firnen did too, smoke streaming from his nostrils.

"How touching," Arngeir said in the ancient language, "Now, back to business. As I said, there is much to do and not much time before Murtagh figures out where you are."

"If you are powerful enough to subdue the lot of us without undue effort, why do you want to avoid Murtagh and Thorn so badly? Are you scared of them?"

Eragon hoped to anger Arngeir with the question but he just smiled. "No, he has a part to play but not yet."

Eragon nodded toward where the hooded figures had disappeared to. "Are they Grey Folk as well? Is that why we couldn't sense your presence?"

"Very astute, my young Rider. The minds of me and my brethren cannot be sensed by anyone, the product of an enchantment wrought long ago."

"But there isn't enough of you to cover all of the cities and towns throughout Alagaesia so all of those people Murtagh saw were-"

"Ah, very clever. Yes, those were my spies. My kin and I have far better things to be doing without slogging through every back-water town and village and I thought my spies would blend in better than my brothers and sisters. Sadly I was wrong. You know, it wasn't very difficult to find people to turn against you. As popular as you are you have many enemies. Although, that can't be too surprising for one who has amassed as many titles as you have; Shadeslayer, Kingkiller, Rider. I must say my favorite is Bane of the Ra'zac. Those foul creatures deserved to be wiped out and I am glad someone finally did so."

Looking to test Arngeir's claim to the truth, Eragon asked, "Who are your spies?"

"I can't tell you that."

"But you said you wouldn't lie!"

"I haven't lied and I won't. Telling you that I can't reveal my spies is the truth so, therefore, not a lie but merely an omission."

Eragon scowled. He glanced at Arya and saw her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

"Arya is discovering the futility of trying to escape. Pay no attention to her. Come now, Eragon. I'm sure you wish to know more."

"How did you and your kin survive for so long? Oromis said you all died after binding magic to the ancient language."

"Finally, an interesting question. It turns out that casting an enchantment of that magnitude is very taxing. As a result, it killed nearly everyone who was involved. I was only eight years old and I watched as my parents and everyone I knew and loved was killed. Only fifty of us, including myself, survived the initial drain. Those of my kind who were not present at the Casting flooded in to aid us in our recovery. Our civilization was taxed to its limit and we estimated only a thousand of us remained. Eventually, we started to die out. Some of us fell asleep and simply never woke up. Others went mad and died violently. It took one of our elders to suggest that the spell we cast was causing all of these side effects to our bodies and minds and that maybe we should leave Alagaesia. It was a difficult decision but, in the end, it was agreed." Arnger sighed, his eyes becoming more and more vacant as he reminisced. "So we left. The farther away we got the better off we became. We found another land and settled in to pass the long years until our death. The only wrinkle was that none of us died. We lived long past when we would normally die of old age and even aged remarkably slower."

Arngeir's eyes were wide with excitement and his voice rose and fell captivatingly.

"It was the magic! It took all of those lives to fuel the spell that gave the rest of us eternal life. Sort of ironic when you think about it, eh?" he laughed. "So, now that we had all of this extra time on our hands, we needed a way to occupy ourselves. We resorted to studying the cause of our immortality; the magic."

"If so many of you survived the drain of energy from the spell, how come there are so few of you now?"

"Again, it was the magic. Over the millennia, many of us died through ill-advised magical experiments and those that didn't were killed by someone else looking to better their own position in our new society. A small civil war broke out and those that survived are the ones you see here today. I freely admit it was our own fault. If it weren't for our greed we could have rebuilt our race and restored ourselves to our former glory. Now, our only hope was to come back here and try to assimilate with the other races and search for those of us that maybe were left behind and survived. It was a long shot, I know, but it was our only hope."

Despite his predicament, Eragon felt a measure of sorrow for Arngeir and his kin.

Then, Arngeir's face flushed with anger and said, "And what was it we found when we returned? The land torn asunder by war! It was barbaric! To see the beautiful land we left behind being torn apart, to see the soil watered by the blood of her inhabitants was too much to bear. However, we were too few to insert ourselves into the affairs of the others so we waited in secret, biding our time until we were discovered by a human, a madman by the name of Galbatorix. He was stumbling around in the wilderness lost and delirious muttering about his dragon being killed and being betrayed by his order. This was the moment we were waiting for. We took pity on him and tutored him in the ways of magic. We didn't give him too much, you understand. We couldn't risk someone with his instability becoming more powerful and skilled than us. He advanced quickly and we planted the idea in his head that he should steal another egg and then he could get his revenge on those who had wronged him. It was too easy. And, well, I'm sure you know the rest."

"It was you? You are the reason-"

"Don't blame me for anything that has happened! The fire was already raging before I got involved. I merely stoked the flames. Could it have been avoided? Sure, I could have killed Galbatorix on sight but then my plan to regain control couldn't have been put into motion. You are all nothing more than a means to an end."

"You realize," Arya said, speaking for the first time, "that for someone who was so appalled by the violence and bloodshed you witnessed here, you caused, and are causing, more than your share of it. You are as much to blame as any of us."

"The only difference is that I have a reason, a purpose, for all of this. It is beyond revenge, beyond the pursuit of power. It is for the good of my people, the very people who, without, you wouldn't be here today. I do this only to take back what is rightfully ours."

Arngeir turned his focus to Eragon once more and said, "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Galbatorix. We gave him the tools he needed to gain his revenge. But he reneged on his promises and, I am ashamed to say, he had outsmarted us by attaining the Eldunari. We could not defeat him alone so, once again, we went into hiding. It is a place long since abandoned by your people but one which you are all familiar, especially you, Eragon."

An image flashed behind Eragon's eyes of the vast expanse of Vroengard, specifically the abandoned city of Doru Araeba. He could vividly see the bobbing lights of their lanterns as the procession of hooded figures disappeared into the city. "You were in Doru Araeba."

"Yes, that was us. We decided not to reveal ourselves only because we had already been betrayed by a human Rider once and I was not convinced we could trust you. We kept a close watch on the events after your departure and I am glad we waited for you to do our dirty work."

"But how could you from so far away? Have you been spying on us this whole time?"

"You know as well as I do that distance only makes communication with your mind more difficult but it is not impossible. The contact becomes tenuous but it can be maintained through the proper meditation. Thus, I was able to direct our spies accordingly and gather intelligence. By the way, I have wanted to say how impressed I was by your spell work when you killed that traitor. I feel quite confident in saying no one else would have thought of attacking Galbatorix's mind in that manner. Proof that the mind is the most powerful tool any one of us can possess."

It felt odd to Eragon that he was being held prisoner and being complimented by his captor. "If you wanted to get your land back and assimilate with us, why not simply join us against Galbatorix? That seems the easiest way to achieve your goals."

"Because you were all a part of the problem. Maybe not you, personally, but your race. You condemn the Urgals for loving warfare when humans are just as bloodthirsty. At least the Urgals fight and kill for honor instead of personal gain. You humans are just as bad as they are. Worse even because at least the Urgals acknowledge their flaws while you just make excuses."

Arya scoffed, "You seem intelligent enough to know that you can't judge an entire race based on the deeds of a few."

"Your history speaks for itself. Humans, Elves, Dwarves and Urgals were built on blood. Worse still is that we gave you the power and ability to do so. Without the enchantment binding our language to the wild flow of magic, maybe no one would have survived. Admittedly, it is our mess and, maybe, we should be the ones to clean it up."

"What does this so called 'clean up' involve?" Eragon asked. Saphira and Firnen growled loudly from their corner and Eragon felt Arya tense beside him.

"I'm so glad you asked." Arngeir smiled mischievously.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Eragon was ripped back into consciousness by the crack of a whip as it descended on his back, pain causing him to involuntarily groan.

"Swear yourselves to me and my cause. Swear it and the pain will end."

"Never!" shouted Arya. The echoes of her voice were drowned out by her scream of agony as Arngeir punished her refusal.

Eragon winced. Everything hurt, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, and he had lost all track of time. It was torture like Eragon had never experienced or even heard of before. Every time Arngeir spoke a word in the ancient language, the nerves he was targeting would ignite with pain. Sometimes the attack would be focused on a particular spot but other times it was as if Eragon was being dipped in liquid fire. Beside him, no more than two feet to his right, Arya was tied down and receiving the same treatment. Anytime one of them passed out or said something Arngeir didn't like, the whip would fall across their backs, opening their flesh. Eragon wasn't sure how long this went on but it must have been at least a full day. From their corner, the tethered dragons would growl and spew jets of smoke and flame when their respective bonded partners felt pain, angry that there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Finally, after having his request to submit for the fifth time denied, Arngeir said, "Enough."

When he spoke, it was loudly and as though it were to a large audience. Eragon pictured the two dozen hooded figures looking on as though this were entertainment.

"As you can see, torture was ineffective. I told you, they are strong-willed and powerful; it would take more than a little pain to get them to break. So now I think it is time for something a little different. The psyche is a fragile thing and I want to see just how fragile theirs is."

He directed his attention to the both of them and uttered a few, unintelligible words in the ancient language and Eragon felt all of his aches and pains ease.

"Either you submit and join me or I will reveal all of your secrets. Everything you have hidden in the depths of your mind will be brought into the light and used to hurt the other until you swear fealty to me. Maybe you can stand to get hurt yourself but can you stand being the cause of each other's pain? We shall see."

Arngeir stood and began to walk away, calling over his shoulder, "I have other matters to attend to. Don't get too comfortable though. I'll be right back." This was followed by the shuffling of many feet then nothing.

Silence, blessed silence, covered them all like a warm blanket. Eragon, eager to make use of their unsupervised time, began to wiggle his wrists, trying to loosen his bonds. He turned to look at Arya who was attempting the same thing.

"It's no use," she whispered. "I can't get free."

"Neither can I," Eragon said. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Her tone let him know she was still upset about their exchange just before their capture. It stung him a little but he knew to leave well enough alone. "Just worry about getting out of here. We need some way to send a signal to let Murtagh and Thorn know where we are."

"I still can't sense anything with my mind. It's like there is a shell around my head and I can't break through."

"Me too," she said. Raising her voice a bit, she called over to Firnen, "Are you two alright?"

Both dragons merely grumbled to convey their discomfort but, otherwise, seemed to be unhurt.

"Should I try to cast a spell to break the ropes?" he asked. He could still feel the swirling hub in his mind where his power lay but he hadn't tried to access it yet, knowing it was futile to attempt trickery or deceit against someone who could see into your mind.

"No, not yet. Since you can't examine the bonds with your mind before you cast the spell, you don't know what will happen if you try to break it. You know that. Why do you ask the question if you already know the answer?"

Eragon had never seen her temper so short. "I'm just trying to do something. Anything." An answer to their problem presented itself to him then and he knew that if anyone would understand, it would be Arya, who had given her life and happiness for the greater good of her people. When he spoke again it was little more than a whisper. "Maybe that is what it will take."

"What do you mean?"

"You know that no one can stand against us now, not since Murtagh gave up the Eldunari. If Arngeir gets what he wants and we end up in a position like Murtagh was in, we would wreak unchecked havoc among our allies and friends. I cannot accept that. I'd rather die than see us thrown into slavery for the express purpose of killing everyone we care about."

Arya looked at him, her green eyes bright. In those pools, Eragon saw she understood but he also saw worry and doubt. "Eragon, I don't think it has come to that yet. We've been in worse spots than this and come out alright. We are only in danger if he breaks us and I swear to you, I will not break." She repeated it in the ancient language to prove her conviction. That was good enough for Eragon but before he responded, another idea came to him. One that seemed to solve all of their problems and get them out of this predicament but only if he kept it to himself. He could ensure Arngeir wouldn't rip it from his mind but be couldn't be certain he wouldn't see it in Arya's.

"I swear it as well," he said, hoping Arya wouldn't question his avoidance of saying it in the Ancient Language.

"Good. Now, let's work on getting out of here."

"No time for that, I'm afraid," came Arngeir's cold voice. He spoke hushed words in the ancient language and the air around Eragon shimmered. He yelped as an invisible force turned the wooden frame he was bound to parallel to the ground and lowered him roughly. From this position, he couldn't see Arya directly behind him unless he craned his head in an uncomfortable manner but she could clearly see him. Arngeir shuffled to stand by Arya and said, "Before we begin, would you like to take this once only offer and submit? Once I start, I will not stop until you pledge yourselves to my service."

"No," she said.

"Never." Spat Eragon.

"So be it." Arngeir smiled.

Eragon's vision blurred and swirled into a kaleidoscope of color. His skin tingled and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He readied himself for pain but it never came. He felt a brief stab into his mind and memoires of Arya flashed behind his eyes. He tried to stem the tide of power but it was no use. How Arngeir was doing this was beyond Eragon's reckoning. As quickly as it started, the flow of memories stopped and then his vision cleared. He craned his neck to try and get a glimpse of Arya and saw that Arngeir was leaned in close to her, whispering into her ear. Her eyes were shut tight and her face was scrunched in concentration. She shook her head and tried to lean away from Arngeir but he was relentless in his soliloquy.

Pain shot through Eragon's spine and neck and he screamed aloud. All of his muscles contracted painfully and his back arched off of the wooden frame. It lasted what felt like several minutes but was likely only a few seconds and then the pain ceased. Eragon breathed heavily and his pulse raced, blood pounding in his ears. He slumped against the wooden frame and hung limply against his bonds.

Arngeir laughed loudly and the pain returned. This time, Eragon's muscles began to spasm out of control, including his heart. He gasped as his heartbeat became erratic and then stopped altogether. He stopped moving and, even though he continued to breathe, it was really shallow and he couldn't even feel his own heart beating. He thought he had died but then dismissed it because if he was dead how was he thinking?

"Look what you did to him, Arya. All you had to do was give me what I wanted and this could have been avoided."

"Eragon?" came Arya's quivering voice.

A moment of silence and then Eragon's heart resumed its normal beating and he was able to fill his lungs on his own.

"See? I brought him back. Now, swear yourself to me or I will do it again. Only this time, he will remain dead."

"Why are you doing this?" asked Arya softly. Arngeir laughed.

"Because it amuses me and because I can. Because I want to see how loyal you are to a government that hates you and uses you as puppets. You are Riders; proud, noble and fierce. Yet you come running like a trained hound whenever you are called. And because I want to see how loyal you are to each other. Loyalty is something I covet and, if you are loyal to each other, you will remain loyal to me."

There was a moment's pause and then he said, in a regal voice, walking around them in a circle as he talked with the ease and poise of a practiced orator. "Join me, Arya. Join me, Eragon and you can be free. Free from the bonds that tell you where to go, what to do, or how to behave. Free from the bonds that society throws on you because they can't help themselves." He stopped his pacing and lowered his voice, leaning in closely so his head was equidistant between them. "Free to fulfill the desires that lay deep in your hearts and finally be together."

Despite himself, Eragon felt a surge of elation as Arngeir unwittingly stumbled into the break he had been looking for. He let his eyes fall an he released a deep sigh.

"Alright." He said as though it took enormous effort to say.

Arya's sharp intake of breath was audible and she hissed, "What are you doing?"

"He's right, Arya. As much as I love and respect Nasuada and all that we have fought for I can't deny the spark of truth in his words. Nasuada, Orrin, Orik; they use us for their own agenda without thinking, without caring, what we want or think."

Saphira growled loudly and strained against her chains. Firnen spat out a jet of flame. Arya yelled at him, "How can you say those things? How can you say that after all we fought for?! I thought you were many things, Eragon Shadeslayer, but a traitor wasn't one of them!"

"Yes!" Arngeir crowed. "Eragon sees it! Will you join me, Eragon? Join me in my quest for revenge and redemption?"

Adopting the Ancient Language, Eragon said, "I will." He felt the slight drain in his power as his words shook him to his core. Arngeir laughed triumphantly, then said a few fleeting words in the ancient language and Eragon's bonds fell from his wrists and ankles. Eragon tried to stand and, when he faltered, Arngeir rushed to his side and helped him to his feet with such tenderness and kindness, Eragon barely recognized the madman who had spent the better part of two days torturing him.

"Welcome to the family, Eragon Shadeslayer. Come, my brothers and sisters! Come greet your new sibling."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Eragon smiled at the group of men and women who milled around him, patting him on the back and shaking his hand. They greeted him warmly and embraced him, as Arngeir had done, saying, "Welcome, Brother Eragon."

Eragon took the opportunity to attempt to gauge their individual strengths and weaknesses. All of them appeared to be in their forties by human standards and, other than congratulating and welcoming him to their ranks, did not say a word. In fact, all but one of them maintained stoic, blank facial expressions throughout the whole ordeal. The odd one out, a male who, at least in appearance, was slightly younger than the rest, gave Eragon a quick nod and a brief smile. When it was his turn in line to greet Eragon, he leaned in close and whispered, "We need to talk. Later."

Eragon didn't respond, sensing it wouldn't be good for anyone if he acknowledged the interaction but merely nodded and muttered, "Thanks."

After a few minutes, Arngeir said, "Calm yourselves, friends. Yes, we have one but we need the other if our plan is to work."

All of them became silent and returned to their positions behind Arya to watch. Eragon stood where he was, rubbing and stretching his cramped and sore muscles, unsure where he should go. He knew what he had to do but he wasn't sure how to go about doing it. Thinking quickly, he said, "Brother, can you please remove the barrier from around my mind? I wish to check on and heal my dragon."

Arngeir nodded, "Of course. When you have finished, you may join your brothers and sisters." He mouthed a few silent words and Eragon felt his mind become free. "And Eragon? Remember: I'll be watching."

Eragon nodded solemnly then turned and sprinted over to Saphira. She growled at him as he approached and he reached out with his mind. Her fury engulfed him.

_How could you?_ She said.

_Trust me,_ was all he dared say. _Will you let me heal you?_

She growled in response and snapped her jaws shut tightly.

_Just trust me._ He urged. He extended a hand to touch her and gauge an injury to her wing but she struggled and growled fiercely.

Realizing it was a lost cause, he gave up and said once more, _Please, trust me, Saphira._

He couldn't show or tell her his plan for fear that Arngeir or someone else might be eavesdropping so he instead poured his love for her through their tenuous mental connection. Her eyes softened and her pupils contracted and dilated as she studied him with one clear blue sapphire eye. _I do trust you but I will not swear to join him._

_You won't have to._ He said then he turned and went to stand with the others. Before he got to them, he attempted to contact the Eldunari but found he was still unable to touch them with his mind. He swore silently and took his place next to the others. He searched discreetly around the cave with curious eyes until he spotted a low wooden bench. Peeking over the top of that bench were the hilts of his and Arya's swords. He was glad they were not hidden and made him feel better about the next part of his plan. All he needed was an opening.

For the next hour, Eragon demonstrated an extreme force of will to remain still and silent as Arngeir worked to break Arya. He resumed his torture of her, using the spell to ignite and enflame the nerves in her body and he assaulted her mind with barrages of power, designed to weaken, confuse and disorient her. He hated how much Arngeir was hurting her but he had no way to stop it without arousing suspicion. He was forced to watch, helpless, and hoped she would be able to hold out until he could get his opening.

Arngeir retrieved a whip, a vicious-looking cat-of-nine-tails with barbed ends, from a bench and turn to Arya. He leaned in close and whispered more words in her ear until she screamed, "No!"

Arngeir laughed at her and spun the wooden frame around so she was forced to face the audience.

"Look at what this is doing to her, Eragon."

Eragon looked and saw her head hung limply, chin against her chest, eyes red and cheeks tear-stained.

"Tell him, Arya. Tell him or I will!" Arngeir shouted.

She made eye contact with Eragon and she mouthed, "I'm sorry." More tears fell from her eyes.

"She really is sorry, Eragon. Sorry that she ever hurt you. She doesn't want you to know that it kills her that your relationship with…what's her name? Nala?...is the reason you can't be together. Oh, if only she had given in sooner, before you ever left."

Arngeir laughed as Arya struggled against her bonds. He said another word causing her to scream in pain.

"And he still loves you, you know?" Arngeir spoke in a quiet, familiar voice. "I ripped that from his mind before he gave in and that is all you have to do, Arya. Give in and you can end this charade."

Arya spat in Arngeir's face and his cheeks flushed with rage.

"I do not wish to do this, Arya, but you have forced my hand. Eragon has seen the light and joined me. Why do you refuse me so?"

Arya said something Eragon couldn't make out. Arngeir shook his head disappointedly. "For shame, never have I heard such a mouth on someone of royalty. I see I will have to tame your tongue as well as your mind."

Arngeir raised the whip to strike Arya and she turned her head to protect her eyes. Before Arngeir could bring the whip to bear, Eragon shouted, "Wait!"

Arngeir looked over, surprised and shocked that someone would interrupt him. "What is the meaning of this, Eragon? I know you are new to our ranks so I will forgive this outburst but you are to remain seated and speak only when I say you can speak."

Eragon bowed slightly, hating the gesture even as he made it. "Forgive me, Brother Arngeir, but you do not know Arya as I do. She withstood weeks and months of torture at the hands of the Shade Durza and he received only a headache in return, for she remained silent the whole while. If I may, let me try and talk to her. I know her better than most and perhaps I can make her see the light, as I have."

Arngeir seemed intrigued but he was reluctant to acquiesce to Eragon's request. "I will take your eagerness to prove yourself as a sign of respect but I am afraid I cannot allow that."

"Forgive me again, Brother, but if we are truly family now, as you say, then let me help you. I know I can make her understand. Let me help so we can continue on the path you have laid for us without any further delay."

Arngeir smiled and laughed, "Your tongue is as cunning as your mind, Eragon. Very well, I will give you five minutes, no more."

"Thank you," Eragon said and strode up to where Arya lay tied. Arngeir held out the whip but Eragon refused. "As I said, torture will not work on her."

Arngeir retreated to where his family stood and said, "You may begin."

Eragon looked down at Arya and felt his heart break when he saw how angry and upset she was at him but, most of all, she looked spent. He reached out to brush away the tears from her face, tears of anger, rage and pain. She shrank from his touch and spat, "Who are you?"

Speaking softly in the ancient language, he said, "I am your friend."

"No, I don't know who you are anymore. The Eragon I know wouldn't have done what you did. You are a traitor and a coward."

Eragon feigned anger and said, "Brother Arngeir, will you remove the barrier around her mind as well? I need to teach her how to respect our family."

Arngeir howled with laughter and pleasure, "Oh, this is going to get good. Pay close attention, brothers and sister. Go ahead Eragon! Have at her!"

Eragon slowly extended his mind and, muttering words very quickly in the ancient language, cast wards around his and Arya's minds that, he hoped, would prevent Arngeir from listening in. Once he felt the familiar strains of Arya's musical mind he said, _Don't move or react. I have a plan and I need you to play along._

Curiosity tempered Arya's rage and she said, _How can I trust you? You have betrayed me and everyone else you once fought for._

_No, never that, I just wanted him to think I had._ He pleaded, _I would never betray you. I care for you too much._ He broadened their connection to allow her to feel what he felt and, when she did, her anger softened considerably. He felt her pain and anguish and she felt how much he hated being the cause of her pain.

_I believe you but why are you telling me now? He is probably listening,_ she sighed. _About what he said, Eragon, I-_

_No, later, _he interrupted,_ I am shielding our words from him but I can't risk this for too long. Listen, in a few minutes, I will strip the oath binding me to him and I will distract them long enough for you to free Saphira and Firnen. I will grab our gear and l will meet you by the cave entrance and we can finally take our leave of this place._

He felt a spike of excitement surge through her. _Ok._ She said._ But I need you to hurt me._

_What?_ He asked.

_It needs to look like you are punishing me, remember?_

_I don't know…_ After having witnessed her pain and torment he wasn't sure he could bring himself to do that to her.

_Eragon? I trust you. Do it._ That was all he needed.

Eragon withdrew from her mind enough so her pain wouldn't rebound through their link and, using the same method as Arngeir, he stimulated the nerves along her spine. He was careful not to go too far and was as gentle as he could be but it still hurt her. A lot. She screamed and Eragon heard Arngeir laugh, "That's what I like to see. You have three minutes left, Eragon."

Eragon yelped as the air in front of him hardened into a ball and struck him in the chest, throwing him roughly to the stone floor. Stars danced behind his eyes as his head struck the stone, hard.

"Oh, and no more of those pesky wards. One could feel like he was being played. If I can't trust you, Eragon, then this relationship will never work out." Arngeir's voice was menacing but sounded almost delighted, happy to be causing pain and suffering however he could.

Eragon rose to his feet. "My apologies. I promise it won't happen again."

"I know it won't because, if it does, I will kill your dragon. Two minutes left. Trust me, it will not end well for her, or you, if I have to come back up there again."

Eragon looked to Arya and she watched him, her green eyes eager, and her muscles now tensed and ready for action. He gave her a quick, curt nod and she responded in kind.

Then he whispered The Word, the very Word Galbatorix used so many months ago, the Word of all words. Eragon felt his oaths fall away and become meaningless. Speaking very quickly, he cast spells of binding so Arngeir and the others wouldn't be able to move and enchantments so that, if they didn't know The Word already, they would not be able to remember it, simultaneously breaking the enchantments on Arya's ropes and the chains around Saphira and Firnen. He also ripped away Arngeir's enchantments around Arya's mind and the spell preventing Eragon from contacting the Eldunari.

As her ropes fell away, Arya leapt up and sprinted over to where the two dragons were, casting spells of her own to break the heavy chains and free them. Eragon then returned his attention to Arngeir, who was already stirring and seeming to break through Eragon's spells, his eyebrows curled in anger and fury in his grey eyes. His companions, too, were stirring and began shouting counter spells to stop Arya and the dragons from escaping. If they got loose and Eragon couldn't contain them, he knew the four of them would be overwhelmed.

Seeking more energy, he reached out to the Eldunari, which he could now communicate with. Glaedr's voice broke into his mind, _What is happening, Eragon? We have been trying to contact you for ages!_

_Later, ebrithil, later. Please, lend me your strength and the strength of your kin. We have no time to waste!_

_It is yours._

Eragon drew upon their reserves of power and cast more spells, causing the ropes that previously bound Arya to fly out and wrap themselves around Arngeir and two others, binding them together. At the others, Eragon sent the various items around the room flying into their midst. One fell as a table broke over his back, another dropped to her knees as the wooden frame Arya was tied to hit her in the head. One of the men, who had gotten to his feet, drew a sword and charged Eragon. Eragon had to redirect his focus to the man who, in about four seconds, was going to kill him. Thinking fast, he said, "Thrysta!"

The man yelped loudly as he was hit in the chest by a clout of air and lifted off of his feet. He flew high into the air, his arms and legs flailing wildly before he fell, impaled, on a stalagmite. He screamed once and then was silent.

"Eragon! Hurry!" Arya yelled from the entrance.

Because Eragon had to defend himself against the man who had tried to stab him, it allowed Arngeir and his followers to regain some lost ground. Three of them had gotten to their feet and turned to confront Arya, only to meet an angry Dragon. Firnen roared mightily and swept them awaywith his tail.

Arngeir was quickly regaining his feet as well, urging the others on while trying to disentangle himself from the ropes. "After them!" he shouted.

Arya pointed at the heavy chains that previously held the dragons and yelled, "Risa!"

Clanking together loudly, they were sent forcibly at Arngeir, wrapping themselves tightly around him and sending him back to the ground.

Saphira barreled her way toward Eragon, claws clacking on the stone and skidded to a halt beside him. Her mind enveloped his and she said, _Get on, Little One! We have to get out of here!_

Eragon went to the upturned bench where their equipment had been. He quickly belted on his sword and quiver, scooped Arya's weapons and their packs into his arms then leapt onto Saphira's back. He looped the two heavy packs around the neck spike in front of him and held on tightly as Saphira roared and hurtled toward the exit, lashing out with her tail while sending great swaths of flame into the midst of the scrambling and confused enemy.

Behind them, Arngeir shouted, "No! I will make sure you live to regret this, Eragon! I will kill everyone you have ever known, spoken to or even thought of and then I will kill you! Do you hear me?"

Eragon gripped his bow tightly and drew an arrow. In one movement, he nocked the arrow and pivoted in the saddle to face Arngeir. He drew the arrow to his cheek and took aim. His eyes found Arngeir's and, in that moment, all of the anger, pain and hatred he felt came to a boiling point and his wrath erupted like a volcano. In his mind, he focused that wrath into one word; the word that had served him so well in all of his endeavors. The word through which he first discovered magic, the word he used when he killed Durza and the word he used to label his weapon. He thought it so hard he didn't have to say the word aloud. The arrow flared up in bright, blue flame and he released the bow string. The missile streaked across the distance between them, trailing flame behind it like a bright indigo shooting star and thudded into Arngeir's chest.

The chains still bound him tightly so he was unable to move, even as the arrow pierced his flesh and stood quivering. Arngeir howled in pain as the fire ignited his clothes hungrily and charred his flesh. He slumped to the ground. All around him, his companions looked on in horror and all activity ceased.

"I don't think so." Eragon yelled back before Saphira broke out of the cave and leapt into the sky, chasing Firnen.

"Did you kill him?" Arya called back over the wind.

"I don't know. I think so." Eragon replied.

"Good." Arya said and left it at that, hugging Firnen's neck fiercely.

Eragon turned his attention to Saphira's injuries and busied himself healing her as best he could from his perch. _Stop, Eragon._

_Why? You are hurt. Let me heal you._

_No, not yet. There is something more important first._

_What?_

_I'm sorry,_ she said. _I should have trusted you and known you were up to something from the beginning. You know that I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it._

_You don't have to apologize to me, Saphira. In fact, if anything, it was a compliment._

_How do you mean?_

_If I could act well enough to fool you, someone who knows me better than even I know myself, then I knew it must have fooled Arngeir as well._ He hugged her neck and she hummed underneath him, her chest vibrating.

She rose on the air currents to join Firnen and, together, the four of them winged their way to Hedarth, happy to be reunited and free from Arngeir and his morbid, sick family.

Back in the cave, Arngeir lay on his back while his brothers and sisters milled around him. Two of them muttered words in the ancient language, spells of healing, as they drew the arrow from his chest and healed his burned flesh. They hadn't been able to get to him in time to stop the fire from doing permanent damage to his neck and face. The whole left side of his head was to be permanently scarred and he would never again see out of his left eye. The skin on his now bare chest was red, raw and puckered.

"He is lucky. Another few inches to the right and the arrow would have pierced his heart." said the man who worked on him.

"The fire didn't damage him inside, Kilgor?"

"It did but his heart escaped the worst of it. As it is, I cannot fully repair one of his lungs of the tissue damage. He will most likely have trouble breathing for the rest of his life."

At that moment, Arngeir's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright, his face contorted in pain and rage.

"Brother Arngeir! Do not move! We needs must heal you some more before it is safe to move you." Kilgor exclaimed. The others rushed forward and tried to force Arngeir back into a supine position but he shrugged them off, "Enough!" he shouted.

"If I don't do this now, you may not live," persisted Kilgor.

Arngeir cursed, "Fine. Do what you must but then our plans have changed." His breath wheezed loudly and his left eye, now cloudy, began to tear involuntarily, the hot, salty liquid stinging his raw and burned skin.

"How do you mean?"

"No longer will we sit back and manipulate from afar. Now, we must go on the offensive. Now, we must go hunting."


End file.
